


For the words we could not say.

by catboxjellyfish



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Historical, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 21:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4494909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catboxjellyfish/pseuds/catboxjellyfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tap, pause, tap tap, pause, tap tap tap, pause. It means we will love each other forever, even if we are separated by time and space. We will always have this code, for the words we could not say. (Chanyeol x Kyungsoo / 1934 - 1993)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1. 1934 Spring

**Author's Note:**

> The sweet smell of magnolia was in the air. By the old flower tree, Chanyeol found a boy shivering and crying. The boy told him in between sobs that his name was Kyungsoo. Chanyeol thought that was the most beautiful name he had ever heard.
> 
> \---
> 
> Placing Kyungsoo’s small hand in his larger ones, Chanyeol tapped gently. Tap, pause, tap tap, pause, tap tap tap, pause.
> 
> “What is this?” Kyungsoo asked.
> 
> “It’s our code.” Chanyeol smiled smugly.
> 
> “What does it mean?”
> 
> “It means we will love each other forever.” 
> 
> \---
> 
> In the darkness, Chanyeol held on to a wrist way too wiry for a soldier and he looked sadly at Kyungsoo, whose eyes were still covered with bandages. “Don’t leave again,” he begged, “please don’t leave again. When the war is over, we can live together. We can go back to how it was.” 
> 
> Sighing softly, Kyungsoo clumsily cupped Chanyeol’s face, feeling the foreign stubbles on the doctor’s face. “Youth is only for reminiscing, not for reliving.” He whispered. “We cannot go back anymore.”
> 
> \---
> 
> “Do you remember?” Chanyeol asked, slowly placing Kyungsoo’s weathered hand in his wrinkled ones.
> 
> Tap, pause, tap tap, pause, tap tap tap, pause.
> 
> “Yes, I remember.” Kyungsoo replied. His eyes remain closed and a small smile graced his aged face.
> 
> The magnolias will bloom again.
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Chapter 1. 1934 Spring 
> 
> Chapter 2. 1944 Summer 
> 
> Chapter 3. 1952 Fall 
> 
> Chapter 4. 1993 Winter 
> 
> Epilogue. 2013

#  **Chapter 1.**

#  **1934 Spring**

The sweet smell of magnolia was in the air. Spring had come.  
  
Chanyeol observed each tree carefully as he walked by, noting their shapes and heights. His checker cape fluttered behind him as he dutifully inspected the vast grounds of the estate. His father told him that all of the estate, including the acres of woodland and the factories beyond the trees, all of it will be his one day. As a boy who just turned eight, Chanyeol could not completely grasp the significance of this sizeable fortune, but he did understand that he needs to take care of what is or will be his one day. So, there he was, making his daily round and making sure the trees were in order. Although he'd like to inspect the factories as well, his father would not allow him; he’d simply pat Chanyeol gently on the head and say “you’re a good boy, Chanyeol, you’ll make a fine heir.”

Heir. That was what everybody in the estate regarded Chanyeol as; after all, he was his father’s only son and they shared the same smoky silver eyes that watched over this family. However Chanyeol wasn’t sure if he liked that title. Whenever this word came up in a conversation, his mother would tell him to study harder and stop wasting time running amongst the trees. “But I already study most of the time, I just want to play for a while!” he’d argue, but then his mother would just start lecturing him even more. She’d say being heir to the estate comes with many responsibilities and Chanyeol cannot always put what he wants first; she’d say he should be lucky that he is an heir because many Korean boys his age are living harsher lives; she’d tell him to be a good son and accept what his family has given him, and he needs to learn to be selfless for the sake of the family. At his mother’s words, Chanyeol obediently nodded. Family, it was always for the family.

Rounding the corner, Chanyeol spotted his favourite magnolia tree standing aloof in the clearing; however the tree was not alone. Underneath the old flower tree, Chanyeol found a small boy shivering and crying. The boy’s cries were soft and pearls of tear stained his rosy cheeks. Chanyeol didn’t know who the boy was or why he was crying, but he knew his chest felt stuffy and he wanted to do anything to bring smile back on the boy’s fair face; he was sure the boy’s smile would be really pretty. Running at full speed, he charged towards the boy and tree. Out of surprise upon seeing Chanyeol coming to a sudden halt in front of him, the boy choked on his cries and fell backward, landing his skinny bottom on the soft grass. The two boys regarded each other wordlessly, one curiously observing while the other gawked in shock.

“Who are you? Why are you crying? What are you doing underneath my tree?” Questions came out of Chanyeol’s mouth like rapid fire.

“I.. I..” As the boy stuttered, trying to find his voice, Chanyeol looked him over. The boy wore an old and tattered cotton-stuffing jacket in a shade of discoloured brown. Below, his black pants were patched at the knees and he only had a pair of black canvas shoes to protect his feet from the cold. Chanyeol frowned, noticing how the boy shivered and his pale hands were red at the knuckles from the chilly spring wind.

“I.. I’m D- D-oh.. Kyung.. soo…” muttered the boy in-between sniffles with chattering teeth, bringing Chanyeol’s attention to his reddened face again. The rims of his eyes were red, but his eyes were clear and bright; Chanyeol thought it reminded him of the moon on a brisk autumn night.

“D.O.?” Chanyeol asked, slightly confused, having only picked up the first part of boy’s soft mutters. “Are you an American? You look Korean to me. Why are you named D.O.?” He looked carefully at the boy’s cute face: prominent black eyebrows underneath soft black hair, long lashes hooded over large round eyes, and a pair of plump red lip opened and closed like a fish out of water below a cute button nose. 

“N-no… I said m-my name is Doh Kyungsoo.” Replied the boy softly after one more sniff, “I-I’m crying because I’m lost. I came here with my hyung and my u-umma… she starts working here today and…a-and” at the mention of his mother, Kyungsoo’s eyes welled up with more tears and he began to cry again. “I saw a pretty bird a-and I chased after it… t-then I got l-l-lost.” Breaking into full sob, Kyungsoo hid his eyes behind his little hands. He cried wistfully partly because he missed his family, but also because he knew he would be in so much trouble when he returns.

Chanyeol panicked watching the bawling boy in front of him; he wanted to make him smile again, not cry harder! Quickly, he knelt in front of Kyungsoo and wrapped himself around the crying boy, imitating how his nanny usually soothed him when he cried. He rocked the boy back and forth while whispering his name. “Shh, Kyungsoo it’s alright,” he whispered softly as the boy’s sobs subsided, “Shh, I’m here now, it’s alright. I’ll take you back to your umma, Kyungsoo, I promise.”

Kyungsoo peeked from behind his hands and hiccupped, meeting eyes with Chanyeol who had a determined look on his face. “Will you?” he asked shyly and Chanyeol nodded firmly.

“Of course!” Chanyeol boasted proudly, “This is going to be my estate one day, so I can do anything. I will take you to your umma.”

Kyungsoo broke into a small smile and his lips formed into a red heart. Little Chanyeol felt a flutter in his heart. Taking off his cape, he wrapped it around the shivering Kyungsoo and pulled the small boy up from the ground. The hem of the cape dragged on the ground as the two made their way towards the main house hand-in-hand. Kyungsoo felt bad that he was getting the cape dirty and tried to give it back, but Chanyeol refused and insisted the shorter boy wear it; he liked how Kyungsoo looked even smaller in his already small cape and how the boy’s face turned red from embarrassment. Squeezing their hands together closer, Chanyeol smiled cheerfully at Kyungsoo.

“My name is Park Chanyeol,” he said with utmost enthusiasm and his grey eyes sparkled silver, “from today, you are my friend. We will always be together. We will stay together forever.”

Kyungsoo looked straight at Chanyeol and noticed for the first time the colour of his eyes, like wisps of smoke swirling in crystal orbs. The small boy was mesmerized and in his daze, he nodded. Kyungsoo had never seen eyes so beautiful before and if he did not need to find his mother, he would have preferred to just stare at Chanyeol’s eyes all day. All of those thoughts unbeknownst to Chanyeol, the taller boy smiled brighter and continued his journey back home, tugging a distracted Kyungsoo behind him. Over and over again, Chanyeol muttered Kyungsoo’s name under his breath; he thought it was the most beautiful name he had ever heard.

\---

When the two boys walked up the pebble driveway leading to the large mansion, an older boy ran towards them followed by a woman. With shaky hands, Kyungsoo tugged Chanyeol to a stop and hid himself behind the taller boy looking frightened. Instinctively, Chanyeol raised his arms in guard against the older boy that was fast approaching. However upon contact, Chanyeol was easily pushed and shoved to the ground while the older boy smacked Kyungsoo repeatedly on the head and his upper body. Kyungsoo squealed in pain and tears welled up in his eyes again.

“Where the hell did you go, you little twerp!” The older boy screamed in rage as he continued to beat Kyungsoo, “Do you know how worried umma was??”

In response, Kyungsoo simply cried and tried to dodge his hyung’s smacking hands. Snapping out of shock for being manhandled so easily and feeling anger burning throughout his body, Chanyeol bounced off the ground and jumped on the older boy’s back; nobody beats his friend. Without mercy, he yanked the older boy’s hair and bit him hard on the shoulder. Kyungsoo watched dumbfounded as his hyung yelped in pain at Chanyeol’s attack. He tried to intervene, but he only made things worse as his hyung continued to beat him and Chanyeol upped his antics for revenge on Kyungsoo’s behalf. In an instant, the children were shrouded in a dusty cloud, formed from tangled feet stomping on the pebbled driveway. 

Finally, the women reached the three fighting children and with some difficulty, she pulled them apart. For the second time that day, Chanyeol found himself on the ground and he landed next to Kyungsoo, who also fell from being pushed by his hyung. Ignoring his bleeding knee, Chanyeol grabbed Kyungsoo’s trembling hand and tried to make a run for it; he realized he might be able to defend Kyungsoo against his hyung, but he definitely was no match for an adult. However, his escape was cut short when the woman knelt down and grabbed Kyungsoo into a tight hug. Chanyeol pulled on Kyungsoo’s arm, trying to loosen his new friend from the embrace until he heard Kyungsoo whimper in the stranger’s arms.

“Umma… I’m sorry.” 

Slowly, Chanyeol released Kyungsoo’s hand. In a flash, the adrenaline left his body and he was grounded to the spot in a daze. He watched as the woman pulled back from the hug and wiped the stray tears from Kyungsoo’s cheeks. She whispered his name and caressed his back, quietly scolding him for running away. Behind her, Kyungsoo’s hyung glared at Chanyeol while rubbing his shoulder. Standing up again, Kyungsoo’s mother turned to Chanyeol and bowed deeply; her two sons quickly followed her action.

“Thank you, young master, for finding Kyungsoo.” She said in a gentle voice, reminding Chanyeol of how Kyungsoo spoke, “I hope our Kyungsoo hasn’t caused you too much trouble. I apologize for my elder son’s earlier actions as well. Please forgive us.” To show the sincerity of her apology, she dipped her head even lower.

Chanyeol shook his head silently, forgetting she probably could not see him with her head hanging so low. Before he realized his mistake, Suho, his personal butler walked up and took control of the situation.

“You can raise your head now, Mrs. Doh.” Suho spoke calmly. Chanyeol scrunched his nose at the voice from behind him. He had always hated the way Suho sounded. There was barely any emotion in the butler’s voice, only civility, which on several occasions he explained to Chanyeol that was what butlers supposed to sound like when the boy complained about the tone of his voice. “Butlers need not show excessive emotions,” he’d always say with a straight face, “we are simply a servant here to serve you. Our emotions are not of your worries and we make sure of that.” Every time, little Chanyeol would roll his eyes and receive another reminder from Suho that eye rolling was improper conduct for an heir.

Turning his sharp gaze on Kyungsoo, Suho spoke again with a polite smile. “I’m glad to see that little Kyungsoo was safe. Please do not cause trouble for the household again.” Kyungsoo lowered his head and edged closer to his mother, whom patted him on the back and urged him to apologize again. Timidly, Kyungsoo bowed again at Suho and whispered he was really sorry. He thought this man was cold and scary, like the dark winter night; his mouth may be curved into the perfect smile but his eyes were frozen and brittle like ice. The butler nodded curtly, accepting Kyungsoo’s apology. Then he looked down at his young master and noticed the bleeding knee. With a guiding hand, he urged Chanyeol to return to the house. “Let’s go, young master Chanyeol. Your knee needs to be tended to.”

Still dazed, Chanyeol let himself being led away. With each step, the pain on his knee became more pronounced. When they almost reached the door, he turned around and saw Kyungsoo being hit again by his hyung. The small boy did not make a sound; he merely bit his lips and lowered his eyes to the ground. The anger returned in a surge and Chanyeol roughly shrugged away Suho’s hand on his shoulder. Running as fast as he could and ignoring the blood that trickled down his wounded knee, Chanyeol chased after Kyungsoo down the pebbled driveway.

“Young master Chanyeol?” A hint of surprise was actually noticeable in Suho’s voice.

Following his mother and hyung, Kyungsoo regrettably walked away from the house. He didn’t even have a proper chance to thank his new friend and he was sure they will never meet again. Chanyeol was the master’s son and he was the son of a lowly maid; even to a seven year old, Kyungsoo understood the unsurpassable social status that stood between their friendships. He was too poor and too shabby, and Chanyeol was destined for much grander things in life, like being heir to the estate. Their friendships would only bring shame to Chanyeol, Kyungsoo thought. However he could not help but catch one more look at the boy with the beautiful smoky eyes.

When Kyungsoo turned around, he was startled for the second time that day by Chanyeol who came to a sudden stop right in front of his face. Panting, Chanyeol looked intensely at Kyungsoo with his eyes of silver and grey.

“I said we’d always be together. Do you want to stay together with me forever?”

Without hesitation, Kyungsoo nodded solemnly with his eyes wide open. Chanyeol smiled. Lacing his slightly larger hand with Kyungsoo’s smaller one, Chanyeol broke into another run with Kyungsoo right behind him. The two boys ran off the pebbled path and on to the snowy lawn, leaving behind a small crowd of people screaming after them.

“Young master Chanyeol, where are you going? You’re still bleeding.”

“Kyungsoo? Kyungsoo, why are you running away again?”

“Twerp, get back here! Stop making umma worried!”

Soon the voices faded and all sounds seem to have disappeared into the wind. All Kyungsoo could hear was his racing heartbeats and the pitter-patters of their feet. His eyes trailed from their linked hands to the back of Chanyeol’s head and Kyungsoo laughed. Listening to the bell-like laughter from behind him, Chanyeol joined in with his obnoxious laughs and he cheered for their temporary escape. Around to the back of the house, the boys went through a pair of stained French glass doors, up a flight of well-maintained marble stairs, and down the wide hallway glistening with porcelain vases and gold encrusted picture frames. As they sped by all the glamour and splendour the house had to offer, Kyungsoo took everything in in awe. It was his first time entering a western style house. He was pleasantly surprised at how big the mansion was and how everything seemed to sparkle. Chanyeol turned around and saw Kyungsoo’s mouth was wide open while his dark eyes shone with excitement as they scanned every corner and crevice of the house. Chanyeol felt very proud his future estate impressed Kyungsoo so much. Finally reaching the end of the hallway, the two boys crashed through the heavy dark-oak doors hand-in-hand.

“Appa, please let Kyungsoo be my personal attendant!”

Chanyeol shouted excitedly as he made his way to his father’s desk by the large bay window an Kyungsoo trailed nervously behind. Kyungsoo didn’t know what a personal attendant was, but he trusted Chanyeol; although he was young and they’ve just met, his instinct told him he could even trust his life with Chanyeol. Mr. Park looked up from his paperwork and saw two pairs of eyes peering from the edge of his ebony desk, one pair shimmering with anticipation and determination and another filled with uncertainty but also commitment. He regarded the two boys carefully with the same grey eyes as Chanyeol’s, but much deeper like a brewing storm. Calmly, he reached a hand to ruffle his son’s hair lovingly and kept his eyes on the shorter boy, who visibly gulped at the attention but never breaking eye contact.

“Boy, what do you think it means to be a personal attendant?”

Feeling Kyungsoo’s palm began to sweat, Chanyeol squeezed his friend’s hand for reassurance. Hesitantly, Kyungsoo answered.

“It means to... do what Chan- I mean what young master Chanyeol wants me to do…” carefully he observed Mr. Park’s facial expression as he spoke. However he was only greeted with a poker-face. Feeling even more nervous, Kyungsoo stuttered in desperation. “B-but, b-but a-also what is g-good or b-beneficial for young m-master Chanyeol… I- I will only do w-what is good for y-young master Chanyeol.”

After a few seconds of tense silence, Mr. Park finally nodded and walked around his desk to have a better look at Kyungsoo. When he spotted Chanyeol’s bloody knee, a small frown graced his handsome face while Chanyeol sheepishly bowed his head, avoiding his father’s disapproving gaze. Turning his attention back to Kyungsoo, Mr. Park scanned the nervous boy over. Although Kyungsoo’s attires showed he was from a poor family, but the master of the estate thought that was less relevant. Most importantly, he liked how clear and honest Kyungsoo’s eyes were, how he emitted a calm and rational aura, and how despite the layer of fear clouding his eyes there was strength and patience to persevere hidden deep within; this boy would be a good complementary to Chanyeol, Mr. Park decided.

“You’re half right, Kyungsoo,” the master of theestate explained slowly, his voice soft and husky with grit, “as a personal attendant, you will be Chanyeol’s aid and you must always have his interest in mind. But more importantly, you must always have the family’s interest in mind.”

It was always for the family.

“Chanyeol is the heir to the estate and the future head of the family. If it is good for the family, it is good for him. However what is good for him personally may destroy the family. So as his personal attendant, you will help Chanyeol with his daily tasks to ensure he will become a good heir and help him maintain the family’s standing. Do you understand that Kyungsoo? It is always for the family.”

Kyungsoo nodded gravely and repeated after Mr. Park. “It is always for the family.” Next to him, Chanyeol lowered his head even more.

“Good.” Mr. Park approved, satisfied with the boy’s answer. Disregarding his son’s lack of response, he went back to sitting behind his desk and returned to his paperwork.

“Suho, I leave you to settle the boy in. And Chanyeol,” he looked up and gazed into eyes identical to his but are still innocent and callow, “give Kyungsoo a good welcome. You have chosen well, son.”

Chanyeol smiled and bowed to show his respect. Kyungsoo also bowed deeply and said this thanks, but was quickly dragged out of the office by Chanyeol. Outside, Suho greeted them and began to lecture his young master about being reckless. However, Chanyeol only half listened as his mind was preoccupied; Kyungsoo stood by and awkwardly nodded at everything Suho said. As the heavy oak doors closed, Chanyeol caught a last glimpse of his father’s dark silhouette and a bittersweet feeling sank to the bottom of his young heart.

\---

Since that day, Kyungsoo became Chanyeol’s right hand and Chanyeol became Kyungsoo’s shadow. The two boys were inseparable, as insisted by Chanyeol who constantly exercised his power as the heir to ensure Kyungsoo would always be by his side. They took lessons together, played together, ate together and also slept together, much to Suho’s disapproval. Even when Kyungsoo was training with the butler on how to become an excellent personal attendant or when the boy did choirs as required by his position, Chanyeol stuck around and tried to help out, eventually angering the normally composed Suho. Over and over again, Suho explained to Chanyeol that he was the young master and Kyungsoo was a servant; they each had their role in life and Chanyeol was definitely not to treat Kyungsoo as an equal. Each time, Chanyeol would scrunch his nose at his butler’s sermon and continued his ways. Until Mr. Park stepped in, Chanyeol had no choice but to accepted the difference in social status between him and Kyungsoo and he did so bitterly. Kyungsoo on the other hand remained silent throughout and always kept his eyes lowered. He understood his position and status. Although he felt really touched at how Chanyeol really wanted to be his friend, the fact that they are master and servant cannot be changed.

One day, as Chanyeol threw a tantrum in class and ran off into the woodlands, Suho dispatched Kyungsoo to fetch their young master back. Under the same magnolia tree they had met, Kyungsoo spotted Chanyeol sitting on one of the top branches.

“Young master Chanyeol, please come down!” Kyungsoo shouted with worry in his voice, “You’re going to hurt yourself if you fall!”

“I’ll definitely jump off if you call me young master again,” Chanyeol retorted with spite. He had made it clear with the younger boy on multiple occasions that he could call him by his name if it was just the two of them. To Chanyeol, the term ‘young master’ often felt like an insurmountable wall that segregated him and Kyungsoo, dwarfing their friendship to nothing.

“Okay, okay, Chanyeol. Could you please come down?”

“No, you should come up instead, Soo. The view up here is great!” Chanyeol dangled his feet cheerfully and he flashed a smile at the worried Kyungsoo down below. After a few more minutes of failing negotiation, Kyungsoo gave in and he carefully scaled up the flower tree. Gingerly placing himself next to Chanyeol, Kyungsoo surveyed the view in awe. All around, fresh leaves sprouted on branches and the flower trees bloomed in full. Gentle breeze caressed their faces and the two boys closed their eyes enjoying the moment. Both losing interest in returning to the stuffy classroom, they began to chat.

“Why does your brother hit you so much?” Chanyeol asked. He noticed that Kyungsoo was always getting hit by his brother but his friend never retaliated.

“He is trying to be like a father to me, I guess.” Kyungsoo shrugged, “It doesn’t hurt too much, really. I know he means well.”

“What does hitting you have anything to do with being a fatherly figure? Appa doesn’t hit me.”

“That’s because your family is rich. We are poor.”

Chanyeol looked at Kyungsoo as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. “What does that have to do with anything?” Chanyeol argued.

Kyungsoo ignored the taller boy’s stare and changed the topic. “Why are your eyes grey?”

“Because my grandmother was an American. Both appa and I inherited her grey eyes.”

“She must have been pretty.” Kyungsoo wondered out loud and he tried to imagine how Chanyeol’s foreign grandmother looked in his head.

“It was all for the family, appa said,” Chanyeol continued, his voice reflecting bitterness unusual for an eight-year-old, “grandfather married grandmother so our family would have American protection. But I guess she was pretty, at least from the photographs. I don't remember much of her. She passed away when I was really young.”

Silence fell among the two friends. Kyungsoo quietly shifted closer to Chanyeol, trying to bring some comfort to the taller boy.

“Where is your appa, Soo?” Chanyeol asked, breaking the silence again.

“He was drafted into a Japanese labour camp…that’s why umma came to work here.”

“What is that?”

“Hyung said it’s a place where you’re forced to work all the time until you die…”

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

Kyungsoo shook his head. He was sure he would never see his appa again and that thought made his really sad. He will always miss when his family was whole, but at a young age he learned that many things in this world were often out of his control. At least he has Chanyeol now, he thought, and Kyungsoo smiled sadly at his friend who looked really apologetic. Wrapping his arms around Kyungsoo’s thin shoulders, Chanyeol gave the shorter boy a warm hug. They hugged until Chanyeol had a bright idea.

“Hey, let’s make a code for when your hyung is bullying you again!” He held Kyungsoo squarely by the shoulder and excitement flashed in his stormy eyes.

Curious, Kyungsoo widened his eyes and he tilted his head in question. “A code? Like what?”

“Mm…” Chanyeol hummed and focused in concentration. Seconds later, his eyes lit up and he clapped his hands loudly for three times. “Like this! Clap, clap, clap! That will be our code for when you’re in trouble. If he’s hitting you again, just run away from him while clapping three times like this, and I will come to save you!”

Kyungsoo giggled at his friend’s enthusiasm. He was sure Suho would never approve of this loud clapping and running plan, but a code does sound like fun. “How about we both either clap or make some kind of noise three times in a row when we are in trouble? It will be our distress code!”

“Like if you break another vase or when I get Suho angry again for some reason?”

“Yes!” Kyungsoo laughed. His bell-like laughter tickled Chanyeol’s ears and heart.

“Done!” Chanyeol shouted eagerly. Linking their pinkie fingers together, the two boys sealed their promise amongst the magnolia flowers. Chanyeol smiled like a fool and Kyungsoo’s heart-shape smile reflected in his grey smoky eyes. He felt intoxicated by the sweet smell of the flowers and from having a secret between him and Kyungsoo.

That day, something began to bloom in Chanyeol’s heart. Spring had come.

\---

TBC


	2. 2. 1944 Summer

#  **Chapter 2**

#  **Summer 1944**

Kyungsoo stood on the second floor balcony and peered at the only asphalt road winding up to the estate. His eyes, still as dark as the midnight sky but clear like mountain spring water, was shielded underneath his hands from the blazing sun, and his plump lips thinned into a line in concentration. It was the day both masters, old and young, returned from their journey to the west, from the ports of Busan. Although Japanese occupations have tightened their controlled over most of the lands and trades in Seoul and Busan, the Park family escaped the fate of many less fortunate Korean businesses; the family was able to capture some over-sea trading opportunities fuelled by the ongoing world wars. The time was not one for great prosperity, but the Park family was doing far better than most. The master of the estate had taken good care of his family in these difficult times and he began training his only son to do the same: carry on the family name and to ensure its prestige will survive the flow of time.

Accompanied by the low rumbling sound of engines, two motor cars appeared steadily over the horizon. Swiftly, Kyungsoo left the balcony and made his way straight downstairs to the butler's office, but first giving one last quick scan over the young master's room to make sure everything was ready for his return. Skipping every other step, the seventeen year-old knocked twice before appearing in front of the head butler, trying to look as calm and composed as possible, despite his excitement.

"Mr. Lim, sir," Kyungsoo called out, his soft voice catching the old butler's attention from the household account book, "they are back. I believe they will be at the gates in no more than 20 minutes."

"Thank you, Kyungsoo." Shutting the account book, the old butler steadied himself against the aged cedar desk as he stood, "Please also inform madam, as well as Mr. Suho, although I suspect he somehow already knows this information. He always has a way of knowing things."            

"Yes sir."

Obediently, Kyungsoo went about to completing the tasks he was assigned. Soon, most of the Park household, led by madam of the house and butler Lim, awaited their masters’ return by the front of the mansion. Two black motor cars pulled into the gate and gravels crushed noisily under the tires. As the car came to a full stop, Chanyeol jumped out of the car and embraced his mother.

“Chanyeol, my son!” Mrs. Park exclaimed as she warmly returned his son’s eager hug, “Welcome home, dear. I hope your trip went well and you learned a lot from your Appa?”

“Yes, umma.” Chanyeol pulled back and smiled warmly at his mother. It had been three months since he last saw her and the eighteen year-old missed his mother dearly. Next to the madam, Suho greeted his young master with a bow, looking as emotionless as always. Chanyeol nodded curtly at his caretaker and carefully he scanned among the bustling servants for the person he had missed the most while being away. He spotted Kyungsoo just as the younger man carried his luggage into the house and Chanyeol smiled unconsciously, watching his personal attendant struggle with the multiple boxes and suitcases up the stairs.

“Chanyeol,” Mr. Park called after greeting his wife with a kiss on the cheek, “what are you looking at? Let’s go in.” Leaving the unpacking to the servants, Chanyeol walked into the house with his mother on his arm. Animatedly, he began to retell his experiences in Busan and the family happily made their way to the tea room.

Upstairs, Kyungsoo finally managed to haul all of Chanyeol’s luggage into his room. Wiping the sweat on his forehead, the younger man marvelled at the colourful boxes of various sizes, particularly the large navy blue one that seemed heavier than the rest. Kyungsoo circled the box a couple of times, like a curious cat, before he decided to ask Chanyeol about the box later and began unpacking his young master’s suitcases. For more than a decade, Kyungsoo was Chanyeol’s personal attendant and aside from Suho, he oversaw Chanyeol’s everyday living. As the young master developed suspicion that Suho was spying on him for his father, Kyungsoo became the only one allowed to enter his room: he trusted his best friend with every aspect of his life and Kyungsoo repaid that trust by being the most attentive servant possible for the young master. Kyungsoo was always so attentive and caring, Chanyeol sometimes teased him as being his ‘wife’, much to Kyungsoo’s embarrassment. His face would blush a pretty shade of rose and Chanyeol would jest more with sparkles twinkling in his smoky grey eyes.

Immersed in his tasks, Kyungsoo was unaware when Chaneyol tiptoed into the room. Silently, he snuck behind Kyungsoo and enveloped the latter into a tight squeeze, placing his chin on his friend’s thin shoulder. Startled, Kyungsoo gasped and the white shirt in his hands dropped to the ground. The embrace as so familiar yet so strange; long gone was the innocence of boys and a whiff of ambiguity was in the air.

“Did you miss me?” Chanyeol whispered, his voice husky and deep. Feeling Kyungsoo frozen in his arms, Chanyeol nuzzled affectionately trying to relax his friend, completely ignorant of the opposite effect his action was having. He loved hugging Kyungsoo, not only because of the younger man was smaller in stature and Chanyeol could easily gather him into his arms, but also because of the fuzzy euphoria he always felt when the other was physically close to his heart. Chanyeol was well aware what he felt for his friend was attraction beyond the acceptable boundary of friendship, however he could not help himself; these tabooed feelings were there ever since he first laid eyes on Kyungsoo a decade ago, underneath that old magnolia tree.

“Young master, please,” Kyungsoo replied, trying to sound as calm of possible but the quiver in his voice betrayed his nervousness, “let go of me. This is inappropriate. You’d get scolded by Mr. Suho if he sees us like this.”

“Suho can go shove a piece of coal in his mouth then,” Chanyeol huffed defiantly, “and what did you call me? It doesn’t sound like you really want me to let go.” Chanyeol smirked and swung his body left and right, taking the younger man his arms with him. Over the years, the young master insisted Kyungsoo call him by his first name when they were alone. While Kyungsoo appreciated the sincerity of Chanyeol’s friendship, he also often felt troubled by their closeness. Suho and his mother constantly reminded him of his position: he was only the son of a lowly maid. Because of this acute awareness of his social status, Kyungsoo tried many times to distant himself from his friend, but Chanyeol was stubborn as a mule; he’d lash out at anyone who’d try to separate them. Kyungsoo was his, Chanyeol often stated openly, and he warned of anyone trying to put a stop to their closeness.

Sighing in defeat, Kyungsoo spoke again in a softer tone. “Chanyeol, please let me go.  _I’d_  get in trouble if anyone sees.” As if his name was the magic word, Chanyeol loosened his grip. Still encircled in the hug, Kyungsoo turned around to face the taller man, who had a rogue smile plastered on his handsome face. Chanyeol had grown up to be a fine young man with toned, long limbs and a broad set of shoulders, much to Kyungsoo’s envy. His boyish features sharpened and his eyes darkened, losing the silver glints of childhood. The pressure and expectation to become an adequate heir has changed Chanyeol over the years; it dampened his positive disposition and forced a child to become a man much faster than it ought to be. However in Kyungsoo’s eyes, Chanyeol was still that boy with the same bright smile and captivating gaze. Subconsciously, Kyungsoo reached up and affectionately brushed away a loose strand of hair. He had missed him.

Chanyeol naturally leaned into the careful touches and he observed the shorter man lost in thoughts. Eyes that reflected an oncoming storm traced every each of Kyungsoo’s face, over his long lashes and averting eyes, across his rosy cheeks and down to his moist red lips. All of a sudden, Chanyeol felt an uncontrollable urge to capture those lips, and to physically show Kyungsoo just how much he had missed him. Leaning in scandalously close, Chanyeol asked again in a low whisper.

“Did you miss me, Kyungsoo?”

Feeling breath being caught in his throat, Kyungsoo nodded numbly, feeling his cheeks burning like when he got too close to fire. Part of him disliked how flustered Chanyeol always made him feel, but Kyungsoo also secretly relished the pleasure of being intimate with the young master. He knew he should not be having those feelings for another man, especially towards Chanyeol of all people in the Park household, but he loses all rational thoughts when the taller man was close to him.

“I missed you too, Soo, a lot.” Chanyeol confessed, his breathe tickling Kyungsoo’s nose, making the latter scrunch his face and blink rapidly. Taken slightly aback at his friend’s feline-like behaviour, Chanyeol laughed heartily. While away in Busan, Chanyeol’s mind was clustered with the thought of Kyungsoo. ‘Kyungsoo would like this’, ‘Soo would enjoy that’, ‘I wonder if Kyungsoo would like this colour’, Chanyeol constantly thought; he thought he was going to drive himself insane if he returned another day later.

When Chanyeol’s laughter subsided, he locked eyes with Kyungsoo again and this time, both young men gulped, fully aware of the intimate position they were in. However before either party was courageous enough to further push the limit of their physical proximity, a cough was heard from the doorway, and the two youngsters pushed each other away. Kyungsoo fiddled with the shirt he had dropped a moment ago, trying to hang it in the wardrobe with trembling hands, while Chanyeol stretched awkwardly by the window and babbled loudly about the arrival of summer. The tips of his elf-like ears matched lovingly with the red velvet curtains.

Standing at the doorway in a dispassionate manner was Suho.

“Young master, may I advise you to take a shower before supper is served? You must be tired from the long travel.” The butler addressed Chanyeol solemnly, completely overwriting the awkward situation he stumbled upon.

“Yes, yes of course.” Chanyeol replied and without looking at anyone in the eyes, he practically ran into the adjacent bathroom. “Thank you, Suho.”

“You’re very welcome, young master. And Kyungsoo, please fetch the young master a fresh rope from the laundry room.”

“Yes sir.” Kyungsoo bowed and swiftly closed the wardrobe door, just as he heard the bathroom door clicked lock. Ducking his head low and avoiding the piercing gaze from Suho, Kyungsoo made his way out the door, but only to be stopped by the butler’s hand on his arm. Nervously, he looked up and was met with Suho’s stoic face.

“Remember your position Kyungsoo,” Suho stated in a voice icier and more distant than Kyungsoo had ever heard before, “you are only the son of a lowly maid and he is the heir. Don’t, forget that.”

With those words said, Suho departed down the long hallway and Kyungsoo was left to stare blankly at the carpeted floor.

When he returned to the young master’s room again with a fresh robe in hand and a heavy mind, Kyungsoo found Chanyeol on the floor by the large navy box he was previously intrigued with. Water droplets dangling from the tip of his hair, the young master sat cross-legged and shirtless while he fiddled with a weird looking machine. Wordlessly, Kyungsoo draped the robe over Chanyeol’s broad back and allowed himself to be dragged to the floor.

“What is this?” Kyungsoo asked, curiousity finally got the better of him, as he watched Chanyeol carefully placed a black disk inside the wooden casing of the machine.

“It’s a phonograph,” Chanyeol replied, “I got it off an American sailor in Busan. I thought it’d be fun for us to record your singing.”

“My singing?” Kyungsoo asked dubiously, “Why my singing? And what do you mean by record?”

Turning to look at Kyungsoo, Chanyeol explained patiently. “This is a disk record and this is a phonograph. The phonograph is a machine designed to play music stored in black disks like these,” he tapped lightly on the dark, flat circle in the middle of the machine below a thin needle, “and you can also record music on these disks if they are blank. By recording, I mean I want to keep a permanent collection of your voice, so I can listen to it whenever I’d like. You have a lovely voice, Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol smiled lovingly at his friend, but it only caused Kyungsoo to frown.

“Chanyeol, I don’t think this is a good idea.” Kyungsoo said hesitantly, noticing the frown also formingon his friend’s face. “You are the young master and now that we are older, we shouldn’t behave like how we used to as kids anymore. You nee-”

“What did Suho say to you this time?” Chanyeol interrupted, gritting through his teeth. His voice was harsh and rigid.

“What, no. He didn’t say anything to me.” Kyungsoo replied in agitation. “I’m saying this for your own good, and mine. Please, we need to stop…  _this_ , whatever  _this_  is.” He waved his hands around feeling frustrated. Kyungsoo used to think they were masters and servants, and secretly he thought they were friends as well. But ever since last year, he wasn’t sure what he’d label his relationship with Chanyeol as anymore. They were friends but sometimes intimately more.  

“ _This_?” Chanyeol joined in on the pointless hand-waving and his voice rose in volume, “If Suho has something to say about  _this_  again, you can tell him to come and talk to me rather than intimate you with his stupid noh mask like face.”

“I said, it’s not Mr. Suho.” Kyungsoo retorted in annoyance, but contrary to Chanyeol, his voice became quieter as he spoke. “I’m just worried, of how others are going to see you because you are close with a servant. I promised Master Park I’d only do things that will be good for you and… I don’t think I am good for you.”

Sighing, Chanyeol grabbed Kyungsoo’s hands in an effort to comfort and to persuade. “You  _are_  good for me, I guarantee you that. Without you, I wouldn’t even know how to dress myself and my temperament would be like that of an uncivilized man. So please Soo, let’s not fight about this anymore. Could you please just let me record one song of you?” 

Matching eyes with Chanyeol, Kyungsoo realized this conversation had come to an end. He could try and argue with Chanyeol more, but knowing how stubborn the other was, nothing would be resolved today. Looking away, Kyungsoo turned his attention to the supposed phonograph and spoke weakly, fatigue laced in his soft voice.

“What song would it be?”

“Ave Maria, by Gounod.”

As the sun began to set, Kyungsoo’s gentle voice sounded throughout the eastern quarter of the mansion and the early summer winds carried the melody into the surrounding woodlands. Bittersweet smell of young love was in the air.

\---

The songs of cicadas echoed loudly amongst the trees, serenading the summer as well as lamenting the shortness of their lives. Summer was in full swing. The happy season brought along the blazing sun and humid winds, turning the inside of the estate into a sauna by day. Unaffected by the heat, Suho walked into the back garden with a tray of afternoon tea balanced precisely in his gloved hands. He walked in just as Chanyeol threw himself into the bamboo chair and tossed a paint brush into the nearby rinsing glass. Glancing at the half-painted canvas in front of the young master, Suho poured hot water over the Darjeeling tea he had prepared.

“Where is Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol asked while keeping his eyes on the canvas, trying to glare holes through it.

“He is inside doing work, young master.” Suho replied as he handed Chanyeol a tea cup. “How is the painting of Ms. Kim coming along?”

Chanyeol shifted his glare to the butler. “I don’t understand why Umma thinks a painting would be a good gift. I haven’t even met the girl but I already dislike her because I have to draw her from this stupid photograph.” Childishly, he flicked the glass frame on the side table that encased a black and white photo of a young girl in formal evening gown. “I’d much rather draw people in person.” Chanyeol sipped at his tea and commented bitterly.

“Should I let madam know that you’d like to meet Ms. Kim soon then?” Suho followed up.

“What? No!” Chanyeol panicked, almost spitting out his tea. Composing himself quickly, Chanyeol rolled his eyes at Suho. “I am simply implying that I am tired of drawing Ms. Kim now and would like to draw a real person instead.”

“Should I pose for you then?” Suho offered, looking stoic as always.

“No, your facial expression unsettles me. I can’t look at you for long.” Chanyeol waved off Suho’s suggestion without any hesitation. “Please tell Kyungsoo to meet me at the magnolia tree, he can model for me.” Without waiting for a reply, Chanyeol picked up his sketch book and charcoal, and made his way towards his favourite tree.

“Very well, young master.”

Finally reaching the shades offered by the magnolia tree, Chanyeol sprawled himself on the ground and closed his eyes, savouring the coolness of the grass against his warm skin. Sweat covered his forehead and he loosened one more button on his cotton white shirt, revealing the toned chests underneath. Bored, he pondered how Suho was surviving this heat in his butler uniform and gloves. ‘Because he is a devil and he’s used to the heat of hell’s fire.’ He thought, and chuckled lamely at his own joke.

“What’s so funny?” Kyungsoo’s voice sounded above his head and Chanyeol open his eyes. Orbs of silver grey met pools of shiny black. “Mr. Suho said you needed me. What can I do for you, young master?”

“Don’t call me that.” Chanyeol scowled, “I need a sketching model and I do not want to draw Suho. Staring at his emotionless face for more than three seconds will undoubtedly give me to the most horrid nightmares.”

Kyungsoo giggled and Chanyeol also smirked at his own witty remark. It was not that he truly believed Suho was an evil man, but the young master found it hard to trust his butler; the man was too objective and too loyal to the family, but not to him.

“Soo, please go sit by the base of the tree and I will sketch you.” Chanyeol directed his friend as he sat up with the sketch book in one hand. Obediently, Kyungsoo made himself comfortable underneath the tree and Chanyeol quickly fell into concentration. Observing his subject carefully, Chanyeol traced the soft edges of the other’s outline onto the smooth paper. He left the face for last and sketched in magnolia flowers in the leafy tree behind. He had always thought the white flowers were a fair representation of Kyungsoo as a person: purity, endurance, beauty and perfection. Taking great care to try and replicate the face he often saw in his dreams, Chanyeol slowly sketched out Kyungsoo’s handsome features, from his prominent eyebrows down to the set of plump lips.

‘Lips.’ Chanyeol caught himself fixated on this word. He was quickly reminded again of his close encounter with Kyungsoo two weeks ago, when he had just returned from Busan. He could tell that Kyungsoo did not deter his advancement, and gingerly he had been nursing this small flame of hope that the other loved him back. However, he wasn’t sure how to convey his feels without burdening his friend even more. Looking up from his drawing, Chanyeol stared at Kyungsoo, who gazed in a daze at the moving shadows on the grass. Noticing a change in atmosphere, Kyungsoo look straight into Chanyeol’s misty eyes. The rhythm of the cicada songs echoed the sounds of their heartbeats. All of a sudden, the butterflies fluttered in Chanyeol’s stomach and up his spine, giving him shiver as well as a surge of courage. Without thinking twice about the consequences, Chanyeol blurted out loud and clear.

“I love you.”

Kyungsoo gawked and his eyes widened.

“I love you,” Chanyeol repeated, “more than a friend. I want to kiss you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to run away with you. I love you. I am willing to leave behind everything for you. I-”

“Stop.” Kyungsoo gasped, “Stop, you can’t. This is not fair. You’re  _such a_ selfish person, Chanyeol!” Kyungsoo said shakily as his voice became progressively angry, and he raised an accusing finger at Chaneyol. “You are the master, so of course you can say whatever you want, but have you thought about me?? No, you can’t dump those feelings on me. Gosh Chanyeol, you are so selfish!”

“Yes, I  _am_  selfish. I’ve always been selfish because all I have ever wanted was to keep you to myself and myself only!” The taller man hollered.

“Stop. Please, stop, young master. This is wrong!” Kyungsoo shouted as he abruptly stood up. “The summer heat must have gone to your head. I will go fetch Mr. Suho now.”

However, before Kyungsoo could make away, Chanyeol closed the gap between them in a couple of long strides. Trapping the shorter man against the trunk of the magnolia tree, Chanyeol tried to reason with his friend, fully ignoring Kyungsoo’s struggle against his unyielding holds.

“No, this is not wrong. There is nothing wrong with being in love. Kyungsoo listen to me,” Chanyeol grabbed hold of both of Kyungsoo’s narrow shoulders and gave them a tight squeeze, “Listen to me! It had always been you, and it always  _will_  be you! But if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me the same way I do for you, then I will let you go and we will never mention this again. So Doh Kyungsoo, do you not love me?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes darted all over the place as his mind raced at one hundred miles per hour. He knew he was obligated to tell Chanyeol that there was no love on his part, that he should walk away and never to think of his day again. But he could not lie, he didn’t want to lie, and deep down, he craved to love and be loved in return. Fighting against his moral obligations, his duties as a servant of the Park household, his inferiority complex, and his desires for his friend, Kyungsoo’s eyes watered as he shook his head in denial; however, he could not muster the strength to say ‘I do not love you’.

“Did you know what the American sailor said to me when I bought the phonograph?” Chanyeol whispered as he leaned even closer, feeling satisfied at the lack of rejection from the other. Excitement reflected in his smoky eyes as he held his blushing companion in regard.

“Live in the present, he said, live a little.”

Tentatively, Chanyeol pecked Kyungsoo on the lips, lingering for a brief second longer to savour the sweetness of the forbidden fruit. The simple touch released a wave of suppressed emotions in Kyungsoo and Chanyeol’s words swirled heatedly in his racing mind. ‘Live a little’, he thought and when he looked up, he saw nothing but passion and rebellion in Chanyeol’s eyes. In an instant, Kyunsoo gave up his fight against everything and raw desire consumed all rationality. Roughly and without a warning, he grabbed Chanyeol by the jaw and smashed their lips together. Chanyeol eagerly returned the kiss, hungry to conquer and satisfy. Passionately, he crushed his larger frame into Kyungsoo’s slighter one against the magnolia tree. They have opened the Pandora’s Box and there was no more turning back.

In the distance, a pair of eyes watched the embracing lovers. Soon, the eyes diminished into the darkness of the woods and only a hint of Darjeeling lingered in the humid air.

\---

The intense summer heat was no match for the escalating heat of young love. For the past two months, whenever there was an opportunity Chanyeol and Kyungsoo hid away from preying eyes. Among the trees, in the shadow of their rooms, or sometimes even in the depth of the family cellar, Chanyeol whispered sweet nothing in his lover’s ears and showered Kyungsoo with fleeting kisses to try and ease the younger man’s anxiety. Kyungsoo thought he was slowly losing his mind; everyday he elevated to heaven then tumbled down to hell. Heaven were the times when he spent close to Chanyeol, feeling the other’s heated skin against his own and soft lips caressing him. All of Kyungsoo’s worries seemed to dissipate in the presence of the taller man, and more and more, Kyungsoo found himself craving Chanyeol’s touches and a glance from those dark stormy eyes to make it through the day. But when you know the sweet taste of heaven, the pain from the depth of hell was even more excruciating. Constantly, he feared someone, especially the Master of the house or Suho, discovering their relationship but the thrill of such tabooed love also satisfied the rebellious side of the seventeen year-old; he knew he should not, but he does not want to stop. On a good day, Kyungsoo was composed, rationale and held his ground again Chanyeol’s incessant needs for affection. However on a bad day, he was moody, jumpy, clingy and also surprisingly daring, much to Chanyeol’s pleasure. Unfortunately for Kyungsoo, more bad days had come to pass than good. Despite Chanyeol’s relentless effort to pacify, every day Kyungsoo lived in a delicate balance of fear and pleasure; he had too much to lose and too little chances for winning. Chanyeol on the other hand was much calmer and he kept his fear at bay. Of course he was also afraid; he was very afraid. However unlike Kyungsoo, he gambled on his position as the heir and the inherent power he had over the household as his lifeline. His ego and naivety fuelled his adolescent recklessness, but he could no longer stop or want to stop, much like Kyungsoo. They both have fallen too deep too fast.

On the night of the last full moon for the season, Chanyeol dragged Kyungsoo to one of the small clearings in the estate woodlands, under the pretence of studying astronomy. Lying side by side on a worn-out wool blanket thoughtfully prepared by Chanyeol, the two young men stared blankly at the luminescing moon in the sky. It was a rare moment of peace and calm.

Wordlessly, Chanyeol placed Kyungsoo’s hand in his larger ones, and he began tapping gently. Tap, pause, tap tap, pause, tap tap tap, pause.

“What is that?” Kyungsoo asked curiously as he tilted his head to look at their joined hands.

“It’s a code” Chanyeol replied, a smug smile on his face.

“What does it mean?”

“It means we will love each other forever.” Chanyeol replied seriously. He looked over at Kyungsoo, hoping his sincerity will reach the latter. Kyungsoo simply smiled sweetly and kissed the back of Chanyeol’s hand. He’d like to believe in forever like Chanyeol, but he already knew that nothing is forever. His appa used to say he’d protect their family forever; Kyungsoo no longer believed in forever.

“What do you think of America?” Kyungsoo asked suddenly, surprising Chanyeol who continued to tap their code in Kyungsoo’s hand.

“It must be a great country I imagine... why do you ask?” Chanyeol spoke carefully, his eyes trained on the other’s profile, unable to read Kyungsoo’s thoughts.

“… No reason. I was just wondering.” Kyungsoo replied lightly and closed his eyes. He fiddled with Chanyeol’s fingers in his hand and wondered about all the ‘what ifs’. What if they were in America, which supposedly was the continent of the free, would they not need to hide their love anymore? What if they were in America, which supposedly was the country of equality, would they still feel suffocated by their social standings? What if they were in America, supposedly the land of opportunities, would they be happier? Kyungsoo didn’t know but he sure liked to dream.

“Let’s go back” Chanyeol broke the silence as he eyed the dark, rumbling clouds rolling towards the moon, “It looks like a storm is coming.”

Packing up, the two young made strolled back to the mansion hand-in-hand.

When Kyungsoo returned to his room, he was unpleasantly surprised to find Suho sitting by his desk. Quickly locking the door behind him, the young man bowed at the butler while his mind freaked out at the sudden visit. Suho regarded the bowing youngster for a few second before ordering him to sit down.  Cautiously, Kyungsoo sat by the edge of his bed, averting the butler’s observant gaze. Finally, Suho spoke up following a deep sigh, his voice unusually kind.

“Please relax yourself, Kyungsoo, I am not here to scold you.”

“Yes sir.” Kyungsoo replied hesitantly, but his shoulders visible relaxed a little, catching the gentle tone in his superior’s voice.

“Do you know why I am here?”

“No sir.”

“No, of course you don’t.” Suho mumbled and slowly, he touched his thumbs together over and over again deep in thoughts. Silence filled the room again and finally, Kyungsoo raised his eyes to observe the butler warily. Something about Suho was different. His usual icy composure seemed to have thaw out a little and it was a rare sight to see him not being as still as a statue. Gulping, Kyungsoo nervously await for what was next to come.

“Did you know I used to work for another household before the Parks?” Suho said suddenly and Kyungsoo jolted slightly from where he was sitting.

“N-No sir.”

“Well, I did, for the Hwang family out in Busan.” The butler explained awkwardly, “They were a great family, very dignified, just like the Parks of course.”

Kyungsoo nodded. He was extremely confused where this conversation was going, but he was also too afraid of the man in front to interject. Ignorant of Kyungsoo’s internal turmoil, Suho continued.

“I started working for them in pretty much the same way as how you started working for the Parks, you know.” He said, sharp eyes looking straight at Kyungsoo, startling the younger man again. “My father died when I was seven and that same year, my mother was hired as a maid at the Hwang family and I was told to be a playmate for the two Hwang children. The young master was three years older than me and the little lady was just one year younger. We got along really well. They never really cared that I was a servant’s son and treated me like their sibling. I was so grateful so I tried to protect them like my family too, especially the little lady. But in the end, I was still just a servant’s son.”

The butler’s eyes lost focus as he reminisced about his youth, and a hint of sadness was in his voice.

“When I was your age, seventeen, I fell in love with the little lady. She was such a wonderful girl, with the brightest eyes like stars in the sky, and her smile was brighter than the sun. God forbid, she also fell in love with me. Me, Kyungsoo, she fell in love with a servant’s son!” Suho exclaimed slightly maniacally, pointing his finger towards his chest. Once again, Kyungsoo nodded, but this time with a tiny frown. The purpose of this conversation was revealing itself and a sickening feeling swirled around in his already jittery stomach. He could not avoid what was to come, but it came much sooner than he had anticipated.

“So, as foolish as we were at that young age, we decided to elope. We thought if we had each other’s love that would be enough. We promised we’d love each other forever, but what did a seventeen year-old and a sixteen year-old knew about love?” Suho scoffed bitterly, “We were so naïve, we completely underestimated the power of the Hwang family. On the night of our elopement, before we could even leave the estate ground, we were captured. The little lady was taken back into the house while men dragged me off to the cellars. I was tortured, punished and kicked out. Somehow, I managed to survive…”

The butler paused, avoiding Kyungsoo’s sympathetic gaze. Shortly, he continued with weariness in his voice.

“Mr. Park was kind enough to give me a job as the young master’s butler and guardian, so I cannot allow him to make a similar mistake. Nor you, Kyungsoo.” Suho looked up, meeting the young man’s gaze and worry was reflected in his normally cold eyes. Kyungsoo froze from feeling surprised at the butler’s open display of emotion, as well as what he was being told. “I am sure what you two feel towards each other is genuine, I was young and there before, so I can relate. However, you cannot deny that what you have with young master Chanyeol will never be accepted by anybody because of your social status and most importantly, your gender. If I couldn’t work out with the little lady, how could two men such as yourself and young master Chanyeol have a future together at all?”

Standing from his seat, Suho walked over to the crestfallen Kyungsoo. “It’s time to grow up, boy, and leave the childish dreams behind,” he said, giving a couple of pats on the young man’s slouched back. “Let him go, before it destroys the both of you. I am saying this for his  _and_  your good. Let it go, Kyungsoo. You will be glad you cut short the pain now.”

Giving Kyungsoo’s back another pat, Suho made his way to the door. Just as his hand turned to unlock the door, Kyungsoo’s question stopped him.

“What happened to the little lady, Mr. Suho?”

“She continued on with her life of course." Suho replied, his tone calm and even. 

"I actually saw her on the street of Seoul last year.” He continued and when he turned around, Kyungsoo was greeted with the same stoic face and cold eyes, “Our eyes met and she looked away. She pretended to not know me at all.”

Giving Kyungsoo another meaningful look, the butler shut teh door with a click and Kyungsoo was let alone to his thoughts.

"Good night, Kyungsoo." 

Thunder rumbled angrily above the estate and multiple lightning struck nearby, including one of the tall fir trees in the backyard. Wild winds stripped the mansion’s electricity supply and the sounds of chaos echoed throughout the house. In a daze, Kyungsoo sat limply in the darkness of his room. From his little window, he watched as fire mercilessly burnt down the fir tree, quickly diminishing the plant to a mere pile of ash.

\---

The storm raged on for an entire week. Torrential rain fell day and night, washing away the earth and taking lives along. It was all hands on deck at the estate and each person, masters or servants, were constantly occupied with endless jobs to be done. Kyungsoo was glad for the overwhelming amount of work he received; it distracted him from thinking and it also gave him an excuse not to see Chanyeol. Since his visit from Suho, Kyungsoo wasn’t sure how to face Chanyeol anymore. He knew he had to be the one to end everything because Chanyeol never will, but he couldn’t bear the thought of breaking his lover’s heart. He also didn’t have the courage to destroy his own heart, to rip it out and shred it to pieces with all the desires he felt for Chanyeol. But that was the right thing to do, he told himself over and over again every day and every night; it was the right thing to do and it was the only thing he could do. He decided that when he came face to face with Chanyeol next, he will end everything once and for all.

However unknowing to Kyungsoo, other schemes were already in motion and his destiny was never his own choosing.

The master of the estate summoned Kyungsoo into his office on a dark afternoon. The rain continued to pour outside and only a single lamp was lit in the office, giving the room a mysterious and sinister undertone. Mr. Park paced in front of the large bay window and puffed on his pipe. Rigidly, Kyungsoo stood in the middle of the large study. The same sickening feeling he felt at the onset of the storm returned to the pit of his stomach.

“Kyungsoo,” the master began in his low raspy voice, still facing away from the young man, “I want you to know that I always saw you like a son of mine. I admire how calm and collected you are for a young man of your age, and your dedication to this family and Chanyeol cannot be overlooked.”

“Thank you, Master Park. Your words are too kind.” Kyungsoo replied softly and he bowed, watching as the master’s feet inched toward him from the window.

“So I think a promotion is in order. As you may or may not know, the Park family has recently acquired a few tenants in Busan and I believe you are now old enough to help out with the family business. One of the new tenants’ business holds a lot of promise, but unfortunately he is getting old and he only has a daughter of sixteen. So I’d really appreciated it if you could go to Busan to marry his daughter, as well as take over the business. She’s a lovely young lady and just at the right age for plucking.”

Gently, the master of the estate raised Kyungsoo from his bowing position, and eyes that reflected the raging storm outside peered into the young man’s wide and surprised eyes.

“You have served Chanyeol  _well_ ,” the master emphasized as he gave Kyungsoo’s thin shoulders a hard squeeze, “but it is time for you to move on to other things.”

The master’s words hit Kyungsoo like a thousand tonne of bricks. ‘He knew.’ Kyungsoo thought hopelessly and the sickening feeling sank deeper. A shaky breath escaped his dry lips as he felt intense pain on his shoulders. He dared not too look away.

“And don’t worry about your mother,” the master continued in a casual tone, “I will make sure she is taken care of in the absence of both you and your brother. You will be doing the family a great service and both Chanyeol and I will be very grateful. Do you have any other concerns?”

“W-when do I have to depart?” Kyungsoo asked quietly, trying to sound as composed as he could muster.

“As soon as the train schedule allows, really,” Master Park replied as he turned his back on Kyungsoo again, returning to the bay window. “So, first thing tomorrow.”

\---

Hours later when Chanyeol returned from his trip to the nearby village, surveying the damage on the family tenants’ land on his father’s behalf, he was unexpectedly welcomed by an anxious Suho. It was rare to see the butler in such state. Brushing rain droplets from his overcoat, Chanyeol questioned his butler half curious and half worried.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked, “And have you seen Kyungsoo lately? I think he has been avoiding me.”

“I am well, young master. But Kyungsoo…” Suho hesitated as he took the coat from Chanyeol.

“What’s the matter with Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol inquired, his voice low and his grey eyes flashed dangerously. Sighing feebly, the butler informed his young master of Kyungsoo’s fate.

Moments later, Chanyeol crashed into his father’s office like a rampant bull and Suho trailed closely behind. Furiously, he slammed his fists down on the ebony desk.

“How could you??” Chanyeol bellowed, “How could you send him away?? Without my consent too! He is  _my_ person!”

“He is a servant of the Park household.” Mr. Park corrected his son lightly without bothering to look up from his paperwork. “I didn’t realize the master needed someone else’s permission to order his own staff now. And anyway, I didn’t send him away as you have implied. He agreed to go by himself.”

“You’re lying,” Chanyeol growled, gritting through his teeth. “Kyungsoo wouldn’t leave this house on his own. You made him leave.”

In the back of the room, Suho watched nervously. He prayed that the young master would not act too rashly, for both his own and for Kyungsoo’s sake.

Finally, Mr. Park looked up and regarded his seething son sincerely. “I am not lying. You can ask him yourself. Suho, please go fetch Kyungsoo.” With a wave of his hand, Suho rushed off to call on Kyungsoo while the master returned once again to his paperwork.

Soon, the butler returned with an impassive Kyungsoo. The young man bowed politely at the master and young master.

“Good evening.” Kyungsoo greeted, his voice soft but flat, “What did you require from me, Master Park?”

“You’re not leaving for Busan, are you?” Chanyeol interjected impatiently before his father could speak. “Please tell me you didn’t agree to go to Busan, Kyungsoo. You wouldn’t!”

Averting Chanyeol’s heated gaze, Kyungsoo kept his head low and replied without hesitation. “Yes, I agreed to go to Busan, for the Park family. I will serve you from afar in the future, young master Chanyeol. Please wish me luck.”

Visibly shocked, Chanyeol leaned against the ebony desk for support. He felt betrayed and deceived; he wanted to think Kyungsoo was lying and that all of it was simply a nightmare. Behind him, Mr. Park nodded in approval and with another wave of his hand, Kyungsoo was dismissed. When Chanyeol came to his senses again, he realized Kyungsoo was no longer in the room and without another thought, he dashed for the door. ‘He didn’t look me in the eyes,’ Chanyeol thought frantically, ‘Kyungsoo was lying because he couldn’t look me in the eyes.’ However, a strong grip around his wrist stopped him in his track. Before he could protest the hold, Chanyeol felt an impact on his right cheek and his skin burnt like it was stung by thousands of tiny needles.

“Stop embarrassing yourself and the family.” The master commanded darkly as his son gaped at him in disbelief. “I know what you were up to with that boy and I have tolerated long enough! It’s time to grow up, son.”

Tossing Chanyeol’s arm roughly away, Mr. Park went back to his seat behind the ebony desk and lit up his pipe. He drew a long draft from the pipe and exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself again. Sternly, he reminded Chanyeol.

“You’re the heir to the Park family, Chanyeol, and that means your life is not only yours. You will never forget that again for as long as you live.”

Resentfully, Chanyeol glared at his father one last time, and left the office in the same manner he had entered. Feeling exhausted, the master sighed and rubbed his temples. “Keep an eye on him.” He ordered Suho and the butler bowed in compliance. Quietly, Suho closed the office door behind him and set out to find Chanyeol.

The said young master charged through the mansion in an outrage and all the servants cleared away in fear as he made his way down the servants’ corridor. At the end of the hallway, he stopped in front of the blue door he was so familiar with and just as he was about to kick down the door, he heard a quiet whimpering cry from inside. Gradually, the whimper escalated to a series of muffled, choking sobs. Inside the small room, Kyungsoo was the picture of grief and devastation. His hands clamped tightly over his mouth as he sobbed uncontrollably, and his back leaned against the door for support to remain upright. Unaware of his visitor on the other side, Kyungsoo wept in sorrow and his body shook with inarticulate pain. His heart felt like it was shredded, lacerated, stabbed multiple times then burned to ash; it hurt so much he couldn’t breathe. Releasing his hands from his mouth, Kyungsoo gasped loudly for air and fell into a coughing fit. As his breathing slowed, tear returned and fell like unbroken strings of pearls. Grasping his shirt tightly at the chest, Kyungsoo choked back more heartbreaking sobs.

Outside in the hallway, Suho arrived to find Chanyeol kneeling in front of Kyungsoo’s door with his head cradled in his hands. Tears dripped from between his long fingers onto the ground and his hunched shoulders shook violently with grief. Silently, Chanyeol wept. He wept because he was heartbroken and he wept because he felt powerless; he felt pathetic, useless, hopeless and above all, he felt helpless. There was nothing he could do to alter the situation and he resented his family, his father, but most of all, he resented himself, of how naïve and callow he was. Listening to the pitter-patter sound of the rain and Kyungsoo’s muffled cries, Chanyeol felt ashamed. He was just a boy and a wistful dreamer; he does not even have the power to protect the one he loved.

That night, as the storm released the last of its wrath, Kyungsoo slipped into Chanyeol’s bed in the dark. Wordless, they made love for the first and last time. Chanyeol caressed every inch of his lover’s porcelain skin and his fingers traced every line, wordlessly apologizing for all that he was not and could not do. In response, Kyungsoo nibbled and clawed, leaving behind red marks and scratches, aggressively showing his grudge towards the unfairness of the world. Holding each other tightly, they took turns tapping their love code on each other’s back until they both drifted off to sleep. Tap, pause, tap tap, pause, tap tap tap, pause.

In his dream, Chanyeol saw the magnolia tree in springtime, when the white flowers bloomed in full and its sweet scent drifted in the wind. Underneath the tree, a small boy dressed a discoloured brown jacket and a pair of black trousers waved happily at him. The boy’s eyes were clear and bright, like the midnight sky, and his laughter crisp like bells. Chanyeol gave the boy a big hug and he whispered ‘I love you.’ Looking straight back at him, he boys also whispered ‘I love you too, always.’ A single tear slid from the corner of Chanyeol’s eyes. If only dreams never end.

\---

_[1 year later – 1945 Summer_ ]

Suho glanced at his young master through the back view mirror as he instructed the driver of the direction from the passenger’s seat. Chanyeol idly watched the people in the streets. The butler was accompanying his young master on a business trip in Busan.

Since Kyungsoo’s departure a year ago, Chanyeol seemed to have matured overnight. He sealed away his rash anger and impulses, and he became calmer and more composed. The master and madam thought their heir had finally “seen the light”, but Suho knew otherwise. He could tell that something had died inside Chanyeol’s heart and the light that used to illuminate the youth’s passion for life was extinguished. Suho thought Chanyeol would have reacted more when he was informed by his father about the trip to Busan, but the young man simply acknowledge it without a ripple of emotions in his ashen grey eyes.

When the car passed through a busy market, it slowed down enough for Chanyeol to observe the crowd more carefully. He watched as a young couple bargained with the seller at a fruit stand. The young man’s face was stoic and Chanyeol thought his profile looked  _so_  familiar. But before he could catch a better look, the car sped away. Briefly, orbs of smoky grey met pools of midnight black and Chanyeol felt his heart tug.

‘Ah, it was him.’ He realized.

All at once, a flood of emotion rushed past the fences he had set up around his wounded heart. When Suho checked on his young master again through the backview mirror, he was surprisd at the trails of tear that streaked down Chanyeol’s cheek as the young man smiled bitterly. 

When he returned to Seoul, Chanyeol found the painting of Ms. Kim he had abandoned a year ago and proceeded to finish it. Three weeks later, on the last day of summer, he married her. As he watched the blushing bride walk down the aisle, Chanyeol felt a pang of loneliness.

Long gone were the happy summer days, and only bittersweet memories were left behind, etched on each of their minds and never to be retold. 

\---

TBC

 

 


	3. 3. 1952 Fall

#  **Chapter 3**

#  **Fall 1952**

_In hora mortis, ora pro nobis peccatoribus._

_Sancta Maria, ora pro nobis._

_Amen._

The Korean Civil War entered its second year. Despite having reached a stalemate, as both sides dwindled in supplies and man power, the warfare continued. Albeit, it continued at much smaller scales and a much slower pace, painfully grinding away the surviving soldiers’ sanity. Many a young man’s eyes blanked and their cheeks hollowed as they spent each day in between the bloody trenches. Realization dawned upon them that death was a more consistent companion than most of their bunk mates. While some, like Kyungsoo, kept to themselves in avoidance of experiencing more grief from losing friends in addition to the suffrage of war, others still bravely formed bonds with their fellow soldiers.

Kyungsoo both envied and pitied those of such brave hearts. He envied because he could no longer find the courage to risk losing again, while he pitied because he knew too well the pain of loss. In eight years, he had lost all of his loved ones. A few years after moving to Busan, his mother passed away quietly in the old estate and his brother followed soon after at the onset of the war. Before long, typhoid stripped him of his in-laws and wife, leaving him behind to defend a bankrupting business in a society plunged into chaos. Enraged and in grief, Kyungsoo loathed the world and his broken reality with a grudge; he became solidary and cold, isolating himself from any helping means and human interactions. Gradually, the initial heated hatred faded and sadness that only the truly alone could understand settled in. Every night in the darkest hours of the night, Kyungsoo laid awake peering into the darkness, and listened to the void in his heart grow as depression ate away at his sanity and soul. He became insomniac, for sleep only brought about haunting dreams and illusions of happier times.

Day by day, the light in his eyes dimmed as fatigue tolled away at him. He felt like he was trapped in hell on earth and there was no longer any salvation for him. So, he waited for his inevitable demise and for his call into war. Before long, his drafting letter arrived in his mail, and without any hesitation, Kyungsoo disposed of what was left of his in-law’s business. As he sat in his empty room the night before departure, he wordlessly and calmly packed his possessions: simply the only picture of his family, a notebook, a change of cloth, and a bookmark of pressed magnolia flower. Everything else he had he either sold or gave away; he was planning a trip of no return. The next day, sitting alone at the end of the train department with only a canvas backpack in hand, Kyungsoo watched his surrounding with discerning eyes. He watched as other soldiers tearfully waved goodbye to their family and friends through the small windows and his heart clenched painfully. He no longer had anyone to wave to and his tears had long since run dry.

He was sure he would die the first week on the front since the urgency of war practically sent him and many of his countrymen into combat with minimal trainings. But life proved to have a different plan for him. Over and over again, Kyungsoo survived each battle and was forced to witness countless death of strangers and acquaintances around him. Slowly, his already withered heart hardened and he sank deeper into depression. On many sleepless nights, Kyungsoo agonized over the purpose of his existence: why was he, someone who had no one left in this world, allowed to survive while young men who had family and friends eagerly awaiting their return die? Why must he always remain to observe the cruelty of reality and experience the misery of solitude? Why was he still alive?

So once again, Kyungsoo charged into battle with a heavy mind and a readiness to die. The chilling autumn wind swirled the smoke from gun fire and explosions around him angrily. Ironically, the smoke that epitomized danger had always comforted him on the battlefields because it reminded Kyungsoo of eyes that used to regard him with love. Squinting cautiously, Kyungsoo raised his riffle to shoot when he spotted a human figure in the distance. However, before he could fire, his entire body was flung backward by a repelling force and a bullet pierced into his body. Immobilized by the impact of the explosion, Kyungsoo laid powerlessly on the rugged ground and gasped feebly for air. Blood pumped vigorously from his heart and out of his wound. Instinctive, Kyungsoo placed his hand on the gaping wound in hopes of damming the outflow of blood. However, the damage was already done.  Rapidly, Kyungsoo’s vision blurred from the loss of blood and pain, and strength quickly left his body. Realizing he was actually dying, Kyungsoo smiled bitterly and felt a pang of regret in his heart. He thought he would gladly welcome his demise, yet when death welcomed him with open arms, he still longed for the life he thought was cruel. All of a sudden, waves of complicated emotions washed over the dying man and hot tears streamed down his burning face out of his stinging eyes. Wistfully, Kyungsoo took one long, last look at the rolling clouds of smoke covering the clear October sky and unwillingly, he was overtaken by the darkness.

\---

“Where do you think people go after they die?”

“That’s an awfully morbid question, young master.”

“Don’t call me that,” a scowl, “Seriously Soo, where do you think they go?”

“… Somewhere they can be happy forever, I guess.”

“That sounds nice...”

The harvest moon was high in the sky. Two boys laid side by side on the bed, and underneath their shared blanket, their fingers were intertwined.

“But if I die tomorrow and you’re still alive, does that mean I will remain on earth and haunt you until you die?”

“… What are you talking about, Chanyeol?” a frown, “Why would you haunt me?”

“Because I can only be happy forever if I am with you, Kyungsoo!” a smile, “So if you’re still alive and I’m dead, I have no choice but to haunt you!”

“… I see. Well, I’d rather you’re alive than being a ghost, so don’t die anytime soon.”

“Okay, hehehe…” a pause, “Kyungsoo?”

“Hm?”

“If you die before I do, will you haunt me too?” A glance of hope.

“Of course. I’ll always be with you and wait for you, until you’re ready to go.” A look of sincerity.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

\---

Kyungsoo awoke to the sound of raindrops hitting canvas tents. His eyes stung and throbbed, and the skin on his face and neck itched painfully. There was nothing but blackness in his sight. Disoriented and confused by his blindness, Kyungsoo attempted to sit up only to feel a sharp pain in his chest, making him groan in agony. Forced to lie down again, the injured man heaved labour breaths and placed his wiry arm carefully over his eyes. The rough texture of bandage grazed Kyungsoo’s skin, providing some vague explanation for his sightlessness.

“Um, you shouldn’t move so much.” A hesitant and childish voice interrupted the stillness in the room, startling Kyungsoo. Alarmingly, the injured man raised an arm and a small, warm hand grabbed his searching limb gently.

“It’s alright,” The voice comforted, “I’m here to look over you. My name is Oh Sehun.”

Awkwardly Kyungsoo nodded towards the direction of the voice and allowed his arm to be held. He had forgotten how warm a living human being was. Weakly, Kyungsoo croaked.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, you’re welcome!” Sehun replied cheerfully. He smiled warmly at Kyungsoo even though the latter could not see, and his eyes curved into crescents.

After a brief silent, Kyungsoo inquired timidly, his voice barely audible. “Where am I, exactly?”

“You’re at a Red Cross field hospital,” Sehun explained, “You’re really lucky, you know. If we found you any later, you sure would have been a goner. You lost so much blood, the doctor wasn’t even sure if you’d survive. But now you’re awake!”

“… how long was I out for?” still feeling faint, Kyungsoo could not bring himself to share the younger boy’s excitement.

“4 days.”

Sehun watched as Kyungsoo gingerly ran his hand up and down the wooden plank his leg was attached to and knowingly, he began to inform the older man of his condition.

“A bullet barely missed your heart, so you’ve lost a lot of blood. You ankle is also broke, so you won’t be able to walk for a while. But now the bullet is out of your chest, a broken ankle is nothing really! As for your skin, they were just slightly burned by some kind of gas and I’ve already applied burnt ointment for you. Don’t worry, there won’t be any burn scars. And your eyes…” Sehun hesitated.

“And my eyes?” Kyungsoo whispered nervously.

“Your eyes… they were exposed to some kind of gas and the doctors tried their best to treat them. They… they are not sure what will happen but the nurses said they will remove the bandages in a week’s time to see.” Kyungsoo’s body froze and Sehun tightened his hold around Kyungsoo’s frail arm in an attempt to comfort.

“Not everyone goes blind, really! I’ve seen people recover before and I am sure you will too!” The younger boy quickly added in a tone of optimism, trying to give Kyungsoo some hope, “I will stay with you the whole time and when Doctor Kim returns, he will try his best to help you too.”

The room settled into silence again and Sehun fidgeted in his chair by the bed. The young boy watched as Kyungsoo chewed on his bottom lip gravely and traced the bandage around his eyes without a word. Frowning slightly, Sehun sympathized with the injured man. Despite his young age, he had seen enough men come and go at the hospital to know the permanent damage gas can have on the human eyes. The field hospitals could only alleviate the immediate pain of such injuries but they could not save the soldiers from a lifetime in darkness. Even if some lucky ones regain their sight after a week or so, their eyes would deteriorate much faster than most and permanent blindness was only a matter of time. Sehun prayed that Kyungsoo possessed such luck; a lifetime of nothing but darkness would be too cruel for anyone. Seeing the older man wallowing more and more into sadness, Sehun attempted to start up a conversation.

“Um, what is your name, hyung?”

After a long pause, the older man answered quietly.

“…Doh Kyungsoo.”

“Nice to meet you, Kyungsoo hyung. Would you mind me asking how old you are?”

“…I am twenty-five.”

“Oh, you’re just one year younger than Doctor Kim!” Sehun commented excitedly, hoping his chatter will help to provide some much needed distraction for the other. Even though they had just met, the younger boy could not help but feel an affinity towards the injured man; perhaps it was Kyungsoo gentle disposition, which reminded Sehun of his father very much. “Actually, you’re in Doctor Kim’s bed right now because all the wards ran out of beds. Ah don’t worry, Doctor Kim won’t mind at all that you’re in his bed. He won’t return until couple of days later anyways.” Sehun chattered on, “Oh and I am ten this year, in case you wondered.”

Numbly, Kyungsoo nodded. Taking this respond as a positive sign, Sehun continued his monologue.

“I met Doctor Kim half a year ago. My entire family passed away when we were caught in crossfire and I was the only one that survived… Doctor Kim found me and I’ve been by his side since then. So now I am his assistant and he is my guardian. I really am grateful to him.”

Kyungsoo tilted his head towards Sehun’s voice. He felt apologetic for the boy’s experience, but the younger boy simply stroked his arm in a soothing manner and continued in a murmur.

“Doctor Kim always said life is unfair and painful, but that does not mean we must lose all hope. You too, Kyungsoo hyung, please don’t lose hope. I will pray for you every night. You seem like a nice person, so I am sure God would not be so cruel to strip you of your sight so soon. So please, please don’t lose hope.”

The sincerity in Sehun’s voice touched Kyungsoo deeply and the latter exhaled a shaky breath. Finally, Kyungsoo whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Thank you, Sehun.”

\---

In the following days, Sehun stayed and chattered around Kyungsoo whenever he was free and the older man was awake. He told Kyungsoo stories of his childhood, of his family in the past, stories he had heard and made up himself, and of course, stories of Doctor Kim. Slowly, Sehun wormed his way into Kyungsoo’s heart and the older man could not help but began to feel a certain attachment to the boy. He made Kyungsoo remember the pleasure of interacting closely with another person and their blooming friendship definitely helped to ease some of the anxiety he felt. The boy kept his morale up and as each day went by, Kyungsoo felt a little bit more hopeful. Sehun on the other hand also relished his budding relationship with the older man. Even though Kyungsoo barely spoke, Sehun could see the older man listened earnestly to everything he said. That made Sehun extremely content with himself; he was happy at least someone enjoyed his stories.

On the fifth day since he had arrived at the hospital, Kyungsoo sat nervously by the edge of the bed and listened to Sehun flutter about in the tent. Doctor Kim was returning today, apparently, and the younger boy was evidently excited about the doctor’s return. Kyungsoo wished he could share Sehun’s enthusiasm but he was rather nervous. After all, he was intruding on the doctor’s living quarters. He tried to convince Sehun the previous day that he should go to the hospital ward with the other patients, but Sehun stubbornly refused and begged cutely for him to stay. Having developed a soft spot for the boy, Kyungsoo soon gave in and stayed in the doctor’s bed, albeit still quite nervous about how he should face the doctor upon his return.

Suddenly, a gust of chilly breeze entered the tent, causing Kyungsoo to shiver. Along with the crisp autumn air were the sounds of shuffling feet, as well as Sehun’s excited call.

“Welcome back Doctor Kim!” Sehun ran up to the tall man that had entered the tent and gave him a big hug. Chuckling, the man returned the boy’s hug, unaware of the other fidgeting individual in the tent. In his usual soft tone, Kyungsoo shyly greeted the homecoming doctor.

“Hello, Doctor Kim. I am private Doh Kyungsoo from the 8th infantry division. Sorry for the intrusion.”

“Oh yes. Doctor, I hope you don’t mind Kyungsoo hyung using your bed. He was pretty badly injured and all the beds in the hospital ward were occupied so I asked the nurses to place him in here since you were away.” Sehun quickly explained as he tugged shyly on the doctor’s sleeve, “The bandage on his eyes comes off in two days, so can he please stay with us until then? You can sleep on my bed.”

Only a soft thump of something dropping to the ground greeted Kyungsoo, and the injured man’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach. ‘Is the doctor angry at me?’ he wondered and twiddled his fingers in apprehension on his lap. Being in the state he was, Kyungsoo was oblivious to the shocked expression on the tall man’s paling face and the pair of leather glove abandoned on the ground. Confused with the situation as well, Sehun tugged tentatively on the doctor’s sleeve again.

“Doctor Kim?”

Finally, the doctor let out a shaky breath and he spoke sombrely, his voice deep and raspy: “Sehun, would you please go fetch some water?”

Still confused, Sehun nodded obediently and left the tent with a large water basin. The doctor only asked him to get water when he needed Sehun to be away for a while. Darted his eyes from one adult to another, Sehun noticed the stiffness in both of their shoulders and the tension in the air. Heaving a sigh, the young boy walked out of the tent into the chilly autumn wind, unaware of the barely audible utterance of a name by the blinded man.

“… Chanyeol.”

\---

“Kyungsoo! I missed you so much!!”

“Oh my god! Young master, please watch your actions! If Mr. Suho saw you like this, he’d say-”

“’This is not how an heir should be acting. You’re already 14 and you’re still carelessly hugging servants and not taking care of your composure…’ blah blah blah blah, that’s what he’d say right? Well, he’s not here, so I am in full liberty to hug my best friend!”

“How did you know I was here?”

“I just knew.”

Amusement danced in eyes that were as dark as moonless nights. Among falling leaves, two figures embraced as one.

“Welcome back, Chanyeol.”

“I really missed you when I was away.”

“I know,” a smile, “I missed you too. I’m glad you’re back.”

\---

Warm fingers timidly entangled with cold and rigid ones underneath the blanket. Cramped side by side on the single bed, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo listened to the autumn wind, Sehun’s soft snore, and each other’s even breathing. Heavy thoughts occupied each of their minds.

Everything was so similar yet so foreign. Kyungsoo was reminded of the many childhood nights when he slept next to Chanyeol with their hands linked and bodies close. Feeding off of each other’s body heat, they chatted about everything under the stars and kept no secrets from each other. But they were no longer those bright eyed boys, who shared words and dreams, and the vigour and curiosity for life. They had become familiar strangers, just ghosts in each other’s past.

After Sehun’s departure that afternoon, there were no heart-warming embraces or kiss of passion; there weren’t even any unshed tears of joy. Simply, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo sat next to each other, smaller pair of shaking hands tucked inside another pair of larger, trembling hands. Neither wanted to speak, for there was too much shock, too much to say yet nothing to be said at all. Even after Sehun returned at a much later time, with basin in hands and worry etched on his young face, there still were no words exchanged between the two men.

All night long, Kyungsoo’s mind tumbled in turmoil as his rationality battled with his desires. Part of him longed to be near Chanyeol again, but another part of him also wished they had not been reunited at all. He was no longer that hopeful, naïve boy of seventeen, and he knew being around Chanyeol would only result in eventual mutual destruction. He could not deny the lingering and ineffable chemistry between the two of them; every time Chanyeol was near, Kyungsoo felt like woodland deprived of moisture, ready to burst into flames of passion at each scorching touch and gaze from the other man. That was why he did not reach out to the Park family at all, even during the bleakest moments of his life. So in hopes of feigning indifference, Kyungsoo remained in silence since he realized Dr. Kim was Chanyeol. However, when Chanyeol wordlessly slipped into the bed and clasped their hands tightly together forcibly, Kyungsoo’s heart skipped a beat and a glint of wild amber reignited from deep within. The other’s hand was no longer how he had remembered, skin roughed and joints became knobbly, but a sense of familiarity remained: the touch still conveyed the same tenderness and love.  Instinctively, Kyungsoo responded to Chanyeol’s touch and his eyes moistened with emotions. He was doomed to never forget and to never move on. He was still so deeply, painfully, and wretchedly in love.

Chanyeol had never imagined he’d be reunited Kyungsoo here of all places. When he heard Kyungsoo’s voice upon his return, he thought he was hallucinating from the fatigue of travel. After all, it was the voice that had haunted him for many years in his dreams. However, when he laid eyes on the injured man, wrapped up in layers of bandages from head to toe, his heart went cold and feelings he had locked away since his wedding day seeped through the cracks of his broken heart. Even though he could not see those eyes of midnight black, Chanyeol still recognized Kyungsoo’s heart shaped lips, the slight hunch of his back and the distinctive softness in his speech.

Turning his head, Chanyeol took in his beloved’s profile, distorted by the binds of gauze and newly formed scabs on the once perfect skin. Gulping forcibly, Chanyeol swallowed the knot of pity and remorse tied up in his throat and willed his tear not to fall. It was obvious Kyungsoo was blatantly trying to ignore him, and Chanyeol doesn’t blame him. Gently, he grazed a gentle finger over the bandage where Kyungsoo’s eyes were, startling the other man but received no objection for his somewhat intimate action. All night long, Chanyeol bit back all the words he so badly wanted to say as suppressed emotions washed over him over and over again in waves. He wanted to tell Kyungsoo how much he had missed him and how he still loved him, but Chanyeol did not, because he also was no longer that stubborn and reckless boy of eighteen who only focused on indulging in the bliss of love and ignored the dark side of happiness. He came to understand that certain love in this world, no matter how true and genuine, could only bring hurt and grief; love is pain, and only a lucky few could walk away unscathed.

Evnetually, Chanyeol broke the pensive silence. His hoarse voice reverberated in the night as he began his monologue.

“I am a husband and a father now. My first born is already two and he has my eyes. I sometimes wonder if those eyes are a curse or a blessing… I am doing my duty as an heir, like what I should be doing, so don’t worry. I’m… doing fine, if you are wondering.”

A tinge of bitterness was in his tone.

“I am not a real doctor but everyone here calls me doctor because the Park Enterprise is providing most of the medicines for the Red Cross hospitals. I feel this is the least I could do to contribute to the war… My father is not pleased that I am out here, but I insisted that I help out at the hospital. I can’t sit idle by anymore, especially since… since this is where Suho was last at."

Kyungsoo’s finger twitched and a breath hitched in the back of his throat.

“My position here in the hospital used to be Suho’s. He was caught in crossfire and they got to him too late… So I took over his name. As much as I always showed distained towards Suho, he was a good man, not as heartless as I made him out to be when I was younger. He was a competent butler and a responsible guardian, and he always had my, no… he always had  _our_  interests in mind. You know, after you left he made an effort to check up on you periodically up until the war started, to make sure you were alright.”

Chanyeol paused and watched as Kyungsoo’s mouth thinned into a line, but it was difficult to judge what was going through the injured man’s head.

“Even before he passed, he spoke of you. Suho said he wish he could have been nicer to you when you were younger… he said he wish he could have protected you more, from the family, from yourself, from me, and all the pain you’ve experience. He also filled me in on the series of unfortunate events that had befallen on you in recent years, and he’s regretful that he could not do anything for you, on his own and on my behalf before he went… Suho…Mr. Suho really cared for you.”

Gently, Chanyeol tilted Kyungsoo head to face him and cupped hollowing cheeks within the palm of his roughened hands. A faint frown etched on his fatigue façade, Chanyeol’s gaze shimmered like the rain that had picked up again underneath the fading moonlight, and his words quivered like leaves on the baring branches in the bellowing winds.

“I still care a lot about you too and I never stopped caring… I still…do care, so much… Maybe too much, to the point that I wasn’t sure how I could face you again. Because of my selfishness, I’ve sent you down a road of no return and I don’t think I have any rights to see you ever again. But still, I wanted to see you again. If I had known your situation earlier, I would have reached out sooner, even though you probably never want to see me again… you probably still hate me, don’t you…”

A self-deprecating chuckle slipped out of Chanyeol’s half curved mouth, bitterness vibrating through this chest to his touch and into Kyungsoo’s being and crumbling mind.

“Even so, I want to find you and see you again. I don’t want you to suffer anymore, I don’t want you to be hurt anymore… I have been searching for you since Suho’s passing. Knowing you, you probably would not accept my help. I know you’d call me selfish for wanting to help you but even so, let me help you, please let me help you… I am a selfish person and I always will be. When it comes to you, I will always be selfish. I promised you I’d always protect you, ever since we were kids… I didn’t forget; I never forgot and I never will. So let me help you. There’s a reason why we’ve met again, here of all places… I am so afraid I am too late already. I am so afraid I have failed you again… ”

Chanyeol let out an unsteady breath and blinked back the tears threatening to fall. He carefully observed the injured man merely inches away from him, who was stiff like a board and breathed shallow breath as his mouth thinned into a tight line. Sighing, Chanyeol placed his forehead against Kyungsoo’s like he’d used to do.

 “Kyungsoo-ah,”

Like he’d used to say.

“Let’s go home.”

The sun shone brightly in the morning, as if the raging rain and sweeping winds were a mirage of autumn nights. Sehun awoke to the sound of even breathing and planes flying in the near distance. Rubbing sleep out of his eyes, the young boy spotted two figures curled up on the only other bed in the tent with their foreheads leaning but bodies apart, huddled underneath the same narrow blanket. As the young boy stood by the edge of the bed, curious, the tear stains on both men’s cheeks came into his vision. Suddenly, Sehun felt a pinch in his stomach and for reasons he could not articulate, sadness seeped into his heart. Staring blankly, he recalled waking in the middle of the night, as muffled chats and choked cries blended with the sound of pellet rain thrashing about like bullets flying through the air. It reminded him of the battlefields and the day when his families were killed; it was all so hopeless, so utterly and exhausting, hopeless.

\---

The smell of antiseptic and medical ointment filled the air as Chanyeol sat across from Kyungsoo, carefully redressing the latter’s eyes yet again. Layers and layer of gauze fell to the ground, discoloured in patches of yellow and brown. It had been two weeks since the injured soldier arrived at the makeshift hospital. Sehun grimaced at the still gruesome state of Kyungsoo's eyes in the candle lights: swollen and red, covered in patches of unnatural colour of discharge and bruises, the gentle man appeared as if he had just stepped away from a violent tussle. The doctors and nurses had told him many times the bruising and discharges were a normal part of recovery, even though it may look otherwise, but Sehun still could not help but worry his little head off. He worried for Kyungsoo not only because he had come to love and care for the older man, but also because he knew this particular patient was special to Doctor Kim; he had seen the lingering touches and the tender warmth in Chanyeol's eyes. Sehun just wanted his doctor to be happy, and he knew that involved Kyungsoo being healthy again. Not daring to speak and not knowing what to say, Sehun darted an unsettled gaze at Chanyeol and tightened his hand around Kyungsoo's. In return, both men flashed him a brief smile, the former in reassurance while the latter in gratitude.

"Sehun you look like a worried husband whose wife is about to give birth," Chanyeol teased the frowning boy as he took the moist towel from the table and dabbed around the Kyungsoo's eyes. The injured man chuckled while Sehun scowled and his face flushed a bright shade of red, akin to the flames of the candle. Nevertheless the young boy kept a close eye on Chanyeol's hands, as they gently cleaned the blinded man's face. Unconsciously, Kyungsoo leaned into the damp towel, letting the cooling sensation awash him sending shiver down his back. Soon, Chanyeol placed the towel back on the table and Sehun bounced over to stand beside the doctor and both man and child stared nervously at Kyungsoo. 

"Try opening your eyes now, Soo." Chanyeol instructed. Slowly and with some difficulties, Kyungsoo forced his heavy eyelid open and the hazy light from the candles overwhelmed his vision, blinding him all together in a different sense. Wincing with every blink, two blurry figures gradually materialized in his sight. 

"Can you see us?" Sehun asked nervously. He knew this could be Kyungsoo's last chance; if he still cannot see then he may never see again. Chanyeol patiently watched as the other man struggled with the sensitive state of his eyes, but on the inside, his heart was also racing from nervousness. The other doctors have told him Kyungsoo was gambling with fate. Often patients battling eye injury from tear gas only had less than 40% chance of recovery. There simply wasn't enough care and medicine for all of the injured soldiers to recovery properly, and full recovery mostly depended on individual's luck; such was the state of war, all men's fates were in the hands of Lady Luck. 

"Kyungsoo hyung? Can you see?" The young boy questioned again, this time sounding even more uncertain and fearful. Without taking his eyes off of the struggling man in front, Chanyeol grasped Sehun's small hand. The older man wondered if he held on to the boy's hand to give courage or receive courage. Finally Kyungsoo settled into a tearful squint and with a trembling heart, he focused on the blurry outlines of the two people in front of him. 

"You're taller than I had imaged, Sehun," Kyungsoo croaked, his voice low and cracking from suppressed excitement, "and... Chanyeol, yo-" 

A high pitch yelp escaped from Sehun's mouth and the young boy threw himself into Kyungsoo's sitting form, knocking the wind out of the older man and interrupting him. Chanyeol's hearty laugh echoed around the small tent and was soon followed by Kyungsoo's soft chuckles. As Sehun chattered on excitedly, sitting on Kyungsoo's lap with his arms encircled around the latter' slender neck, Chanyeol watched the two fondly; Kyungsoo half cradled the excited boy in his arms, nodding at the younger's stream of chatter while Sehun wiped away a stray tear from the injured man's eyes. Smiles were on their lips and in their eyes, and Chanyeol could not help but wish this scene would never end. They looked like a happy family, a family Chanyeol would love regardless.

“We should celebrate!” Sehun said all of a sudden and he turned his puppy eyes onto Chanyeol. Next to him, Kyungsoo also regarded the taller man through his swollen lids, a small smile still tugged on the corner of his plump lips.

“Can we please, Doctor Kim? Please, please, pleeaaaaseeeee.” The young boy begged and leaned forward from his seat on Kyungsoo’s lap, tugging softly on the fabric of Chanyeol’s white coat. Kyungsoo gingerly balanced the boy on his legs with his hands around Sehun’s small waist. Chanyeol stared down at Sehun’s pouting face and tried to be serious, but soon succumbed to the boy’s cuteness. 

“Fine, fine, we will have a small celebration party. But just a small one since it’s already dark out.” Chanyeol said and ruffled the boy’s hair. Sehun cheered loudly and without another moment to waste, he jumped off Kyungsoo’s lap and ran straight out of the tent, screaming something about Nurse Kwan having just the thing for celebration.

Overwhelmed by Sehun’s excitement, the two adults blinked in stupor at the dust cloud left behind in the boy’s leave. Quietly, Chanyeol chuckled warmly and turned his attention back to Kyungsoo, who also smiled affectionately. Among the flickering flames of the candles, they lock eyes and orbs of steel pierced through hidden spheres of onyx. The vicissitude of the seasons reflected in their gaze and there was no more heartache from a single glance. Chanyeol was expected to see hurt and frustration but instead he was engulfed by the calm and resignation in Kyungsoo’s eyes. Sighing, the taller man picked up the towel and wordlessly began to clean the other’s eyes again. Opposite of him, Kyungsoo made no rejection and steadily, he took in the image of Chanyeol, his hardened eyes, greasy hair, sunken cheeks and the rough stubbles around his thinning lips. Meticulously, he engraved every little detail of Chanyeol into his mind.

“Will you still not tell me anything?” Chanyeol asked after a while sounding slightly annoyed as he paused his movements. Since they were reunited, Kyungsoo barely talked about himself, of his life without Chanyeol and the other ghosts of his past.

“You already know everything,” Kyungsoo replied coolly and handed the other the medicinal ointment for his eyes. Breaking their gaze, the injured man looked down and shut his eyes, “there is nothing to tell. I’d rather you not know.”

Heaving another sigh, Chanyeol took the ointment and began applying the medicine on Kyungsoo’s eyes with practiced hand.

“I may know most of your happenings, but I’d rather hear it from you. I thought we don’t keep secrets from each other.”

“That was before.” Kyungsoo mumbled and Chanyeol’s paused again.

“Nothing has changed, Kyungsoo. You’re still the most important person to me in this world.”

Chanyeol’s tone was stiff and cold, contrary to the words he was saying. Kyungsoo bit on his bottom lip and kept to himself. Seeing the other’s habit for whenever he was apologetic or troubled, Chanyeol sighed again and continued with his task of re-bandaging the injured man. He didn’t speak again until he finished securing the gauze around Kyungsoo’s eyes.

“Have you thought about my offer?”

This time it was Kyungsoo’s turn to sigh. Chanyeol had asked Kyungsoo to return to the Park estate with him and work for him because the latter no longer had any reason to stay in Busan; his wife and in-laws had all passed away, and their business was also destroyed by the war. Although Kyungsoo also felt the same, he could not bring himself to accept Chanyeol’s offer.

“I already told you, I can’t go back with you.”

“Why, are you worried about the old man?” Chanyeol questioned challengingly. Firmly, he placed his hands on Kyungsoo’s shoulders. “He can’t do anything to you, to us. You need a place to stay and to work, that’s the least he could do for you after what he did ten years ago.”

“He didn’t do anything to me ten years ago,” Kyungsoo stubbornly responded, his voice soft and flat, “don’t argue with me Chanyeol. I said I can’t go back with you.”

“Why can’t you?”

“I just can’t.”

“I’m not going to accept that. Either give me a good reason why, or you’re coming back with me even if I have to drag you.”

“… Don’t be childish Chanyeol. I can’t.” Kyungsoo reprimanded, trying to sound annoyed.

“But why?” Chanyeol continued to push and his tone became more and more frustrated, “Tell me, Soo, why won’t you come back home with me?”

‘Because I am still in love with you and I can’t bear to see you with a wife and son,’ Kyungsoo thought bitterly to himself, ‘because it would be too painful to be around someone I can never have, even if it means you will be happier. I don’t have that kind of resolve to love you or that kind of courage to live out the rest of my life.’ He ducked his head lower and bit harder into his bottom lip, almost drawing blood. Those were the words he could not and would never say.

“Goddamit Kyungsoo, why the hell not?” Chanyeol shouted angrily, making the candle flames dance violently. Having received no response from the other at all finally pushed Chanyeol’s patience over the brim.

Alarmed, Kyungsoo raised his head at Chanyeol’s outburst and his shoulders throbbed with pain. Shaking from anger, Chanyeol dug his fingers into the other’s flesh without mercy. In response, Kyungsoo stubbornly refused to show any sign of pain. Even though he could not see, he could image the storm raging in the other’s misty grey eyes; it was a bittersweet feeling knowing that something never changes. Deliberately, Kyungsoo placed one of his hands on Chanyeol’s.

“Sehun will be back any time and I don’t want to make him worry. Let’s talk about this another time.” Kyungsoo said keeping his tone calm and collected in an attempt to pacify the angry man. However, Kyungsoo’s tranquil composure infuriated Chanyeol more for he mistook the calm for indifference. In a move of spite, he blew out the candles and the tent was engulfed in enraged darkness. Tightening his grip around the smaller man’s shoulders and eliciting a breathless wince, Chanyeol knelt face to face with Kyungsoo.

“No, we are talking about this now.” Chanyeol gritted through his teeth, his voice dangerously deep and raspy, sending dreadful shivers down Kyungsoo’s back. It was so much like the voice whispering in his ears ten years ago on that particular stormy night.

“All I am asking is from you is to give me a reason why you can’t come home with me, is that so hard? I know I am selfish for wanting you near me at all times, but this will be in your interest. There’s nothing left in Busan for you, Soo. Don’t make life harder for yourself, please.” Chanyeol pleaded quietly. His anger diminished just as quickly as it came, “The Park estate was your home and it can be your home again, can’t it? I will be there and Sehun will be there too after the war, it can be all of our home.”

“Our home…” Kyungsoo mumbled absentmindedly.

“Yes, our home!” Chanyeol encouraged with hope in his voice, “Come back to our home, Kyungoo.”

“No,” Kyungsoo rejected with resolute, “no Chanyeol, the Park estate is not  _our_ home. It’s only your home, your home with the Master and Madam, and your home with your wife and son. It is not my home and it never was. So no, I can’t go back with you. I’ve already no home.”

“But Kyungsoo, it-”

“No but, Chanyeol. I really can’t go with you.” Kyungsoo whispered and for the first time, a strain was detectable in his voice. “Let me go, Chanyeol. Please, set me free…”

Stunned by Kyungsoo’s request, Chanyeol loosened his grip on the other’s shoulder. Dejectedly, he dropped his hands and knelt with his head hanging low. The smell of burnt wick drifted through the air, sharply accentuating the tension in the tent.

“If I did, then I think I’d die.”

Kyungsoo flinched at Chanyeol’s whispering words. Although faintly spoken, they were grave and undisguised words, as if a matter of fact.

“Don’t say that so lightly.” Kyungsoo replied with a frown, “You won’t die… you can’t afford to die.”

“I’m serious, Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol looked up again and gently, he held on to the wrist that was too wiry for a soldier. “Don’t leave again,” he begged desperately, “please don’t leave again. When the war is over, we can live together. We can go back to how it was.”

Sighing softly, Kyungsoo clumsily cupped Chanyeol’s face with shaking hands, feeling the stubbles on his face. “Youth is only for reminiscing, not for reliving.” He whispered. “We cannot go back anymore, Chanyeol.”

“Can’t we at least try? Give me one more chance, Soo. Let’s at least try.” Chanyeol entreated further.

However just as Kyungsoo opened his mouth, his voice was drowned out by the loud rumbling of jets flying by, accompanied by the familiar whishing noise of bombs dropping. In the split of a second, the earth shook violently and a blast of heat and shock waves expanded from the spot where the bomb exploded outside of their small tent, crushing the structure and setting the fabric on fire. Along with fragments of the tent and everything else inside, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo flew into the air, and their skin and clothes scorched instantaneously. Fragments of metal, glass and other articles pieced through and into their bodies as gravity slammed them back onto the earth’s surface. Blood splattered everywhere.  

Among the blazing flames, figures and shadows appeared and disappeared and the sounds of chaos echoed in the night, but all Chanyeol could see was Kyungsoo’s struggling form few feet away from him and all he could hear was the piercing ringing in his ears. Acting on his instinct, the taller man tried to crawl over to his loved one, who frantically was tearing away the bandages around his eyes. However as he gasped in short breaths, Chanyeol realized he could not move at all and he could feel the blood trickling into his chest cavity. So he laid immobile, panting for air, and watched as Kyungsoo crawled towards him with all the strength he could muster. When their trembling fingers finally touched, Chanyeol grinned satisfyingly as he realized Kyungsoo was not hurt as badly. At the last moment before the explosion, he enveloped the shorter man into a tight embrace and shielded him from some impacts of the blast.

‘Don’t cry,’ he wanted to say as he saw the tear streaks on Kyungsoo’s face, but he had already lost his voice. His consciousness was slipping fast. Blinking one last time, Chanyeol watched Kyungsoo’s moving mouth, but all he could hear was a deafening, hollow ring, rather than the heart-retching calls of his name. With a frozen smile on his lips, Chanyeol shut his eyes. 

\---

_Ave Maria, gratia plena._

_Dominus tecum, benedicta tu in mulieribus et benedictus._

_Fructus ventris tui, Jesus._

_Santa Maria._

_Santa Maria._

_Maria, ora pro nobis, nobis pecatoribus_.

_Nunc et in ora, in ora mortis nostrae._

_Amen._

_Amen._

Tap, pause.

“Chanyeol… Chanyeol… ”

Tap tap, pause.

“Thank you, Chanyeol…”

Tap tap tap, pause.

“Goodbye.”

\---

Chanyeol came to two weeks later.

When Sehun saw Chanyeol had regained consciousness, he burst out in tears and bawled loudly as he buried his entire face into Chanyeol’s blanket. “I thought you left me behind too,” he cried uncontrollably, and his small body shook with genuine sadness and relief.  Wordlessly, the older man grabbed Sehun’s trembling hand and the boy gripped on tight, as if afraid Chanyeol would disappear any moment. Together, they stayed like that until they fell asleep. 

When Chanyeol awoke again the next evening, he saw Sehun sitting by his bed with swollen, red eyes. Gravely, the boy placed a chain in Chanyeol’s palm. Attached to the chain was a simple dog tag, and on the tag the name  _Doh Kyungsoo_  was engraved. Without even looking, Chanyeol closed his fingers around the chain and tag. Using his thumb, Chanyeol traced the engraving on the medal tag and thought back to the long dream he had when he was unconscious.  He wondered if everything really was just a dream; Kyungsoo’s voice was still so vivid and the sensation of their code still tingled in his palm.

Finally, Sehun broke the silence.

“Chanyeol-appa…”

“Hm?”

“Let’s go home.”

“Mm.”

That night, Chanyeol cried until he could cry no more, until his tears ran dry, and until Kyungsoo’s voice disappeared as he fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Half a year later, the Korean Civil War officially came to an end. Sehun returned to the Park estate with Chanyeol as the new master’s adopted son.

Chanyeol never saw Kyungsoo again, except in the odd dreams here and there. Occasionally, he would dream of a young Kyungsoo laughing underneath the blooming magnolia tree, but most of the time, he would dream of the adult Kyungsoo sitting in front of his old canvas tent. Leaves as colourful as blazing flames would fall around the blinded man with gauze covering his eye. In surreal serendipity, Kyungsoo would softly sing, letting the wind carry his haunting words to only God knows where.

_Nunc et in ora, in ora nortis nostrae._

_Amen._

He’d sing.

_Amen._

_\---_

TBC

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is Ave Maria by Bach-Gounod. I listened to this version while writing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RuSx2Kx-VAA


	4. 4. 1993 Winter

#  **Chapter 4**

#  **Winter 1993**

In between the snow-capped trees, Chanyeol walked the only paved path, crunching thin layer of snow underneath his shoes. With every step, his cane clinked against the hobbler stone, disrupting the passive peace of the woodland. One step heavy and one step light, the elderly man hobbled slowly down the path. Old war injuries became more and more pronounced as he aged, yet despite the inconvenience of his legs, Chanyeol struggled alone towards the old magnolia tree. White clouds of breaths puffed out of his mouth, blending in with his silver tresses but contrasting sharply against his all-black attires. His aged faced was stoic and emotionless, but his steely grey eyes reflected depthless despair. With each step, Chanyeol’s heart felt an ounce heavier and with each step, the reality hit him a bit harder.

In his cane-less hand, he clenched onto a small wooden box and a white envelope inscribed neatly with handwritings the elderly man was once so familiar with. In the upper left corner of the sealed envelope were the letters  _PCY_.

_Park Chanyeol._

And in the bottom right corner, the neat handwriting spelt out  _DKS_.

_Doh Kyungsoo_.

It was the only letter in forty years.

\---

At the back of the Park mansion, there was a small greenhouse. It was built for the first lady of the house, the beautiful Madam Annabelle with eyes of silver smoke. In the cozy greenhouse, she grew blooms of tea rose, flowers that were delicate and soft, and meaningful to her heart. “I’ll remember always,” she used to say, but of what nobody could recall any longer. Sometimes in the glimpse of his dreams, Chanyeol would catch a fragmented memory of his late grandmother waving the flower in front of him when they so rarely spent time together in the moist greenhouse. Her gentle voice would tell his younger self that tea rose meant “I’ll remember always”, she’d say, “I’ll remember always.”  

The said greenhouse still grew blooms of tea rose, flowers that were delicate and soft, and now also meaningful to Chanyeol’s heart. “I’ll always remember,” he’d say as he diligently tended to his flowers every day, watering them and fertilizing them. This had become his habit for the past year, since he retired and passed the family business off to his eldest son. Everyone in the household assumed Chanyeol cultivated these flowers for his late wife who also passed away a year ago and they’d praise him for being a loving husband; the elderly man would simply stretch his lips into a bittersweet smile and avert their eyes. But Oh Sehun of all people knew better. The “I’ll remember always” Chanyeol whispered everyday was only directed towards that one person from happier times, the person the elderly man had searched for with no avail, and the person who was still dear to his heart.

For forty years, Chanyeol never stopped his search for Kyungsoo. Over the years, he had sent out detectives after detectives, but not once were they able to find any trace of the missing man. It was as if Kyungsoo had evaporated in the fire that night, leaving Chanyeol with only a chain and tag always cold to the touch. Despite being one of the most powerful men in South Korea, Chanyeol often felt quite powerless. He realized under certain circumstances, his powers were almost godly, able to move mountains and determine matters of life and death. Yet at other times, his powers were useless; he could not even locate the one person closest to his heart and live the life he wanted to live.

Heir and master. Those were what his family wanted him and expected him to be. To their wishes, Chanyeol had well exceeded his parents’ expectations and he secured both prestige and wealth for the Park family; his career in trade was praised by many as a legacy in post-war South Korea. Gradually, he matured and had come to accept his role in life, as well as his position in the family; he came to understood that his life does not just belong to him and he could not afford to be selfish. Year by year for the sake of his family, Chanyeol persisted on, carrying more and more responsibilities and social expectations on his back. His expressions became stoic and slowly, he became more pensive, calmer, and more reserved. Without much choice, he ended up living a life he could not call his own, but still for the family, Chanyeol lived on. “It is always for the family,” like his late father used to say. So Chanyeol persisted and carried on, and in a blink of an eye, his hair had gone white and wrinkles etched into his handsome face. Looking at his own aged reflection in the mirror, a dry laugh rumbled from Chanyeol’s throat. He was already 66.

_甜蜜蜜_ _你笑得甜蜜蜜 / Sweet like honey, your smile is sweet like honey_

Amidst the flowers, there stood an old boombox always winding and rewinding the same cassette of a popular Chinese song from 1979. Originally it was an upbeat song by Teresa Deng, but Chanyeol played a male version of that song in his little greenhouse, a gift from a young Chinese business partner he had befriended when he was last in Beijing two years ago. It was a slower acoustic version of the song, one that conveyed more helpless longing than hidden sweetness. Even though Chanyeol could not understand the lyrics when he first heard it, the clean guitar accompaniment and the young man’s innocent voice plucked at his heartstring. It invoked thoughts of first love and quiet summer nights, and of his forgotten youth from long ago. Smiling kindly, the young man then translated the lyrics for Chanyeol. As the elderly man’s steely eyes softened with nostalgia, the young man placed his pale hand on top of weathered ones.

“You’re remembering that smile sweeter than honey,” he said, amusement in his voice.

“Much sweeter, but now only in my dreams,” Chanyeol replied and smiled frankly in return. Faced with silent pity, the elderly man gave a soft pat on the younger’s back.

“It’s alright, at least I can still dream, right?” he said, “at least there are still dreams,” and the young man could only nod.

Two weeks later, he received the cassette mailed from Beijing with a note attached. ‘ _I’ve recorded this for you, Mr. Park. I hope your sweet dreams never end’_ , the sender wrote.

Since then, Chanyeol played this song in his little greenhouse whenever he tended to his blooming tea roses.

_好像花儿开在春风里 / Like flowers blooming in the spring breeze_

Sehun opened the door to the greenhouse and stepped in with a heavy heart. Immediately, he spotted Chanyeol sitting in the bamboo lounge chair in the middle of the greeneries speckled with petals of pastel pink with his eyes closed. Soft sprays of sunlight defused through the thick panes of glass showered the elderly man, softly illuminating his weakening body, peaceful countenance and thinning snowy white tresses; it was as if the man that had once ruthlessly dominated the business world of South Korea was merely an illusion. ‘Since when did he get so old?’ Sehun wondered as he quietly walked towards the elderly man, ‘since when did he look so weak?’

From the moment he entered the Park estate, Sehun had sworn to himself he will spend the rest of life serving Chanyeol in whichever way he could. Being the adopted son, he was given no official part in the family business but he did not mind; he simply wanted to be helpful to his adoptive father and he prayed that the older man would one day find happiness again. He could never erase from his mind how Chanyeol cried after receiving Kyungsoo’s dog tag. It was a heart-retching, wordless and breathless cry. There were no gasping sobs, howling bawls or wailing weep, but only muted cries that shook Chanyeol’s body from deep within, as if his heart was physically being ripped into pieces and nothing but dreadful silence could convey the intensity of the pain he felt. Since then, Sehun made his lifetime mission to always act and do things in Chanyeol’s best interest, not the family’s interest, and to help his adoptive father find as much happiness as he could. That was also why he became a doctor and took it upon himself to personally care for Chanyeol’s heath in his old age.

_在哪里_ _在哪里见过你 / Where, oh where have I seen you before_

Slowly placing a hand on Chanyeol’s arm, Sehun woke the elder man from his shallow slumber. Eyes of steely grey warmed at the sight of the serious man kneeling by his side and Chanyeol smiled kindly at his visitor. A pang of pain resounded in Sehun’s heart and unconsciously, a small frown crawled onto his sculpted face.

“Sehun, you’re here.”

“Yes, appa. How are you feeling today?” Sehun asked politely, the frown still resting in between his brows.

“I’m doing alright, just feeling a little tired tending to the flowers.” Chanyeol replied light-heartedly and looked around at the stems of roses with proud eyes. Then turning back to Sehun, Chanyeol looked straight into his adopted son’s eyes. “Is something bothering you Sehun?”

Returning the other’s concerning gaze, Sehun looked visibly surprised. “Why do you think something’s wrong, appa?” Sighing, Chanyeol cupped Sehun’s chiselled face just like how he used to do when the latter was still a lost child.  

“Because you could never hide how you feel from me, especially when you’re worried,” the elderly man replied softly. Growing up, Sehun learned to conceal his emotions, but he could never rid of the habit of frowning whenever he was concerned. Chanyeol thought this characteristic reflected rather positively on his adopted son; he thought Sehun’s frowns proved him to be a more compassionate doctor and a more humane person.

“So what’s wrong, tell appa.” Chanyeol urged and patted Sehun’s face playfully, a caring and silly grin hung loosely on his lips.

Looking down at his hand on the older man’s leg, Sehun subconsciously leaned into Chanyeol’s rough hand. For a moment, he stayed silent and contemplated his words. He hoped he was making the right decision.

“Appa,” Sehun said quietly, “I found Kyungsoo-shi. He’s… dying.”

_你的笑容这样收悉 / Your smile is so familiar_

Chanyeol’s smile froze.

“Kyungsoo-shi was admitted to our hospital about a week ago. He didn’t go by the name Doh Kyungsoo.“ Sehun continued, still avoiding Chanyeol’s piercing gaze, “He asked me not to tell you that I’ve seen him, but I think you should know. He’s really sick and I don’t know how much time is left for him… You should have the chance to say good bye.”

Tense silence hung around the air like heavy dews on a morning rose. Only the voice that still sung of sweet smiles in distance dreams echoed in the small greenhouse. Sehun’s frown deepened and he dreaded having to face Chanyeol again; he dreaded seeing the shock, the pain and the muted rage in the elder man’s smoky eyes. But instead to his surprise, he was greeted with a pair of melancholic eyes as hazy as the flurries of snow outside. Chanyeol was looking far, far away into the distance, deep into his memories and thoughts which only he could see.

“Appa?” Sehun inquired tentatively. His voice shook with uncertainty and anxiety, which spurred from the other’s lack of emotional response. Sehun thought Chanyeol would have reacted more strongly; after all, he imagined a fair amount of longing, resentment and regrets would had piled up in forty years. Yet there the elder man was, looking as tranquil as the icy lake in the woodland. Sehun was at a loss at his adoptive father’s behaviour; he could not understand why and something tells him, he may never understand, just like how he would never come to understand the bond and relationship between Chanyeol and Kyungsoo.

_我一时想不起 / I can't seem to recall_

Slowly, Chanyeol blinked and shifted his misty gaze on the hundreds of tea roses around. “Yes, it is time to say good bye,” he said calmly, “let’s go say good bye, Sehun.” Without giving his son a chance to reply, the elderly man lifted himself off the lounge chair. Tightly gripping his polished cane in one hand and gently plucking a single tea rose with the other, Chanyeol stumbled towards the entrance of the greenhouse. Perhaps it was his weak wavering form or the air of loneliness surrounding his slouched back, the image of Chanyeol staggering away left a bitter taste in Sehun’s mouth.

_啊_ _在梦里 / Ah, it was in my dream_

Sehun hoped he made the right decision.

\---

Chanyeol ran his hand over the plastic name tag beside the hospital room entrance. Clearly and neatly, the name  _Han Kangwoo_  was written. Chanyeol chuckled bitterly and shook his head. Who’d have thought he was looking for the wrong name all along? A few steps behind, Sehun stood silently by, still with the same frown plastered on his face. A week ago, he was also quite surprised when he came face to face with the terminally ill patient newly admitted to the hospital under the name Han Kangwoo.

He had already briefed the patient’s chart: final stage of lung cancer. Judging by the patient’s age and Korea’s recent history, this was a predictable post-war disease. Sehun only pitied that the patient was not diagnosed sooner, or else he would not be helplessly awaiting death at the age of 65; in many sense, he was still young. Aside from being the board of director for the hospital, Oh Sehun was also a well-regarded doctor in palliative care, a professional at helping patients deal with their terminal diseases psychologically, emotionally and/or spiritually. Reviewing the patient’s chart one more time, Sehun swiped back the curtain segregating each patient in the shared hospital room and introduced himself as Doctor Oh. However when he was greeted by his name rather than his title, Sehun looked up with quizzical brows and subsequently was shocked by the familiar but aged face in front of him. The other man merely smiled faintly, just like how he used to do so many decades ago. ‘I see you have become a doctor, Sehun” the sick man said with abiding softness, ‘good for you.’

Sehun’s frown deepened as he remembered his encounter from a week ago. As a doctor, he was glad his patient was able to remain so calm and rational, but personally Sehun disliked his patient’s rationality and composure. He despised how the other had once walked away heartlessly because it was the most sensible choice; but little did Sehun know that to the man now named Han Kangwoo, that same action was the most irrational decision he had made in his life. He did not choose to disappear because it was the right thing to do. No, he chose to leave because he feared, feared to love and feared to be loved. Fear is often irrational and love, love is never rational.

The doctor watched tensely as Chanyeol knocked on the hospital room door. Moments later, a tanned man in his mid-20s opened the door. Wordlessly he regarded the elderly man with serious eyes then gave a curt nod to Sehun in the back. Like a curious child, Chanyeol could not help but peek into the room. However before he could see much, he was addressed by the younger male.

“You must be Mr. Park,” he said with a polite bow and Chanyeol nodded lightly trying to hide his surprise, “Kangwoo-appa is waiting for you. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

“Thank you.” Chanyeol replied, still feeling slightly surprised that he was anticipated, even though he thought he was visiting unannounced.

“You’re welcome,” The young man smiled warmly, “It’s nice to have an old friend visit him, especially now.”

Sadness reflected in the young man’s tone and Chanyeol lowered his gaze. Noticing the awkward atmosphere settling in, the tanned man coughed and stepped aside letting Chanyeol in. After another polite bow, he closed the door behind the elderly man.

Looking up again, Chanyeol surveyed the rather small but bright room. Warm sunlight streamed in through the windows and the few furniture and essential medical equipment were dusted in a layer of amber gold. On the bed, a frail white hair man leaned upright against the multiple pillows placed vertically behind his curved back. Deliberately, he turned his face away from the door and looked outside of the windows. From head to toe he was skin and bones and the slight hunch of his shoulder diminished his stature even more. An oxygen mask was affixed to his pale face and his weak body seemed to heave with every faint breath he took. His once plump lips were no longer red, but ashy with sickness. Fatigue of life visibly made its irreversible mark on his once beautiful face as smooth skin crinkled with wrinkles. Eyes as black as moonless nights blinked blankly at the setting sun outside. Everything was so dreamlike for Chanyeol, the familiar yet foreign atmosphere and person; but the sound of the other’s breathing distorted by the oxygen mask was also so alarming and piercing, bring him back to the reality. Without any hesitation, Chanyeol strolled over to the bed with his cane pounding on the floor. The white hair man did not turn to look at his visitor and when Chanyeol made it to the base of the hospital bed, he spoke.

“For forty years, I’ve looked for you, every day. Every day, I looked for any trace of you, to see if you are okay. But for forty years, I couldn’t find you, any trace of you. Sometimes I really believed that you had already died and I was searching for a dead man, but then you’d appear in my dreams again. The same you from forty years ago with bandaged eyes, sitting in front of that small ragged tent. You’d sing and at the end of the song, you’d always look straight at me. Even though your eyes were hideen, I could tell you were looking at me. It’s strange, but again and again, I was sure that you are still alive. So then I'd continue searching like an idiot trying to find a needle in a haystack. But who knew, I was searching for the wrong person all along…”

Chanyeol smiled bitterly and gripped his cane harder until his knuckles turned white. In front of him, the white hair man lowered his head but made no effort to speak or face Chanyeol. Staring intensely at the other’s profile, Chanyeol’s bitter smile widened, distorting his face into a mild absurdity. It was all too similar to the last time they saw each other.

“Doh Kyungsoo,” he called out, voice shaking with suppressed emotions and anger, “I don’t know if I love you more or hate you more. To avoid me, you risked dying and fled from the hospital. Then you even go as far as changing your name so I could never find you. Now that you’re almost dead, you didn’t even think about letting me know. If you didn’t run into Sehun by accident, you would just die in silence, wouldn’t you? You’d just let me continue searching for another forty years, until I die from regret, self-loath and misery, wouldn’t you??”

The white hair man still remained silent but lowered his head further and bit into his lower lip.

“Doh Kyungsoo!” Chanyeol bellowed, no longer able to contain decades of pain and anger, “you really hate me that much?? So much that you didn’t and still won’t give me a chance to say good bye? Is my love for you so wrong that it makes you hate me so much??”

A single tear tumbled out of Chanyeol’s eyes that were laced with red veins. His voice raspy from rage, Chanyeol continued to scream as he slammed the end of his cane on the floor over and over again.

“Doh Kyungsoo!” he yelled, “Doh Kyungsoo! Say something!”

The other man bit harder into his bottom lip.

“Doh Kyungsoo!! Doh-”

“I don’t hate you.” The white hair man finally replied, cutting short of Chanyeol’s desperate cries. With difficulties, he removed the oxygen mask from his face and repeated himself more clearly.

“I don’t hate you, Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo’s voice was still characteristically soft but also raspy from fatigue and sickness. With a sigh, he look straight into Chanyeol’s bloodshot eyes and in an instant, his clear eyes misted over. With a final thud, the cane dropped to the ground and shook under the weight of its owner. Chanyeol leaned against his cane for support as delayed relief washed over him, replacing the mounting fury from merely moments ago. Heaving to catch his breath, he shut his eyes and listened to Kyungsoo’s soft yet hoarse voice.

“I told Sehun not to say anything to you, but of course, he did…” Kyungsoo whispered. His voice was hollow and feeble, like a dying breeze blowing through the empty trunk of a withered tree. “He said this is what I owe you. He said I owe you an explanation and a chance to say goodbye. Do I, Chanyeol?”

“Don’t you?” Chanyeol bit back mercilessly, still catching his breath with his eyes closed. Kyungsoo paused for a slight moment then smiled sadly. Park Chanyeol was no longer the same doting boy he once knew.

“I probably do,” Kyungsoo replied in earnest, “but I am only human, Chanyeol. I am selfish and fearful. I didn't know what else I could have done, so I ran away… I’m sorry if that caused you more pain than I had anticipated.”

Chanyeol opened his eyes and regarded Kyungsoo sharply, who wiped away a stray tear from his eyes with a trembling hand. Straightening up, Chanyeol stumbled towards the side of the bed and sat himself down in the chair placed close by. Gingerly, he reached over and helped to wipe away another loose tear.

“Why did you leave that day, without saying anything?” He croaked while feeling the wrinkles on Kyungsoo’s face as he dabbed at tears falling like pearls on a broken string. He still had a soft spot for the other man and cannot bear to see him cry, even when they both have become old men and had seen the sceneries of life. 

Kyungsoo coughed and heaved a couple of labour breath from the oxygen mask. Ignoring Chanyeol’s worried gaze, he removed the mask from his face and spoke again, sounding even more hollow: “Because I didn’t have the courage to love you anymore. Of course I’d like to stay close to you, but you had a wife and a child back home. Who would I be if I go back with you? I don’t have the courage to love you selflessly and to see you be with another, even if that person is your wife. So I decided to be selfish for once and to leave. I knew leaving while you were still unconscious was the most hurtful thing I could do, but I had to. If I didn’t then, you’d never let me go. I left behind my dog tag, hoping that you’d think I died and would forget me… but who knew,” Kyungsoo’s words quivered with choked emotions, “who knew you’d search for me, for forty years…”

“Yes, for forty years,” Chanyeol sighed, “… why did you change your name?”

“To have a new start, “Kyungsoo replied, suddenly sounding more resolved, “I had nothing left and even you… I felt like I had also lost you. To me, when I left that field hospital, Doh Kyungsoo had already died, so I became Han Kangwoo.”

Savouring Kyungsoo’s words, Chanyeol's heart shriveled and sank deep into his stomach. Slolwy, he mumbled in reply: “You didn’t lose me; you never had and you still didn’t.”

More tears flowed out of Kyungsoo’s eyes and calmly, Chanyeol wiped them away again like he was taking care of a child.

“In these years, I thought about why you left as well. I was also selfish wanting to keep you by my side and I forgot to see the pain you’d feel. After some years, I came to understand that and I forgave you for leaving a long time ago. Yet still, I couldn’t stop my longings for you, so I searched for you. But I never thought you’d change your name...”

“I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo whispered.

“No, it’s not your fault. You had every right to change your name and start anew… I just wanted any news from you, to know that you’re okay. When years after years, I had no news of you, I thought I’d forget about you and move on. But I couldn’t, not at all. I tried so many times to forget you, to think of you as a dead man and someone who had betrayed me, and rip you out of my heart. But in the end, I still couldn’t do it. In the blink of an eye, I had continued this struggle for forty years. My kids had grown and flown out of the nest and my wife even passed away. Yet still, you are the person that dominates my heart and my mind.”

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” Kyungsoo whispered again and again in between small sobs. He apologized towards Chanyeol, for taking away any possibilities of ‘what if’s four decades ago. But mostly, Kyungsoo apologized towards his wife and children. He knew he had taken away love and attention that should have been devoted towards them. Even though it was not his fault, Kyungsoo could not help but feel guilty and apologetic. He often pondered about his love for Chanyeol and with Chanyeol, of how much pain they had caused towards others and for each other. So when he walked away that brisk autumn night, he hoped both he and Chanyeol both would be able to start anew. But just like the other, Kyungsoo struggled with forgetting and forgoing that love until his hair turned as white as the magnolia flowers they first saw together many springs ago. Still, he loved Chanyeol; loving the other man seemed to have turned into a necessity like breathing.

Listening to Kyungsoo’s apologies, Chanyeol simply wiped away more tears while shaking his head. 

“There is nothing you need to apologize for, Kyungsoo. It wasn’t your fault or mine, or anybody’s. We simply fell in love and there isn’t any fault in that. I guess in the end, we are just victims of fate and ill-starred destinies.” Chanyeol lamented, “So please Kyungsoo, don’t apologize anymore.”

Trying to stop the other’s flowing tears, Chanyeol flashed a hearty smile, the same one that made Kyungsoo realize his love for the other many summers ago.

“Do you remember?” Chanyeol asked suddenly, slowly placing Kyungsoo’s weathered hand in his wrinkled ones.

Tap, pause, tap tap, pause, tap tap tap.

“Yes, I remember.” Kyungsoo replied with his eyes closed and a small smile returned to his tear-streaked face.

Chanyeol’s own smile widened more. Concentrating hard, he made an engraving of Kyungsoo’s smiling face deep in his mind right next to a younger version he had engraved previously. He knew they do not have much time left; Kyungsoo could go any day now. A rush of remorse and regret filled his heart and Chanyeol breathed in sharply. How he wished there could be more time and how he wished they could have met sooner. Why do their reunions always have to be so brief?

Cupping a hand against Kyungsoo’s face, Chanyeol looked straight into orbs that were still as dark as the moonless sky. Sincerely, he said: “Listen Kyungsoo, I am thankful that I met you and fallen in love with you. I am thankful that with you, I was able to experience an unforgettable love that really is once in a life time. I am thankful that I could be here now, holding your hand one more time and feeling your warmth one more time. I am thankful I was given another chance to say hello and to say goodbye, whether this is for the last time or not. I am terribly afraid that this will be the last time, so I am going to say everything I could not say before.” A pause, “Kyungsoo, you’ve given me so much in this lifetime, I cannot possibly blame you for anything but to thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you… Thank you for loving me and letting me love you. Thank you for being a part of my life. Thank you for being you.”

Chanyeol’s voice was deep and unwavering.

“I’m so thankful it is you, Kyungsoo. I love you.”

Kyungsoo held back the tears that were threatening to fall again and smiled until his lips formed into a heart shape. Slowly and softly, he whispered in return, using up almost all of his strength. 

“I love you too, Chanyeol.”

That was the first and last time Kyungsoo had ever said those words.

\---

In the silence of the night, Han Kangwoo passed away with a smile on his face.

The same night, Chanyeol saw a 17 year old Kyungsoo waving at him from beneath the old magnolia tree. ‘I’ll wait for you,’ the boy said and Chanyeol nodded from afar. When he was greeted by Sehun with news of Kyungsoo the next morning, Chanyeol lowered his gaze and a single tear glided down his face. “Too soon,” the elderly man mumbled, “too soon.”

\---

Han Kangwoo’s funeral was held three days after his passing. It was a simple affair designated at his grave and only a handful of people showed up. Among the couple of friends, some employees from the deceased’s small book store, his son his only family, and a priest, there were also Sehun and Chanyeol. No one questioned their presence and each person grieved solemnly as they took turn placing flowers on the gravestone and saying their final farewells. Sehun placed down a single magnolia flower without many words while Chanyeol stood solidly by, clutching a wrapped bouquet in one hand while gripping his cane in the other. Few pairs of curious eyes darted towards the elderly man, but no one questioned outloud why he did not place down his bouquet, and the informal ceremony carried on. After the priest gave his blessings, Han Kangwoo’s son, the tanned young man Chanyeol had briefly met at the hospital, began to recite a poem as per the deceased’s will. It was “A boat beneath the sunny sky” by Lewis Carroll from his novel  _Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There_. Among the flurries of snowflakes that began to dance, the young man recited the poem.  

_A boat beneath a sunny sky,_

_Lingering onward dreamily_

_In an evening of July –_

_Children three that nestle near,_

_Eager eye and willing ear,_

_Pleased a simple tale to hear –_

_Long had paled that sunny sky;_

_Echoes fade and memories die._

_Autumn frosts have slain July._

_Still she haunts me, phantomwise,_

_Alice moving under skies_

_Never seen by waking eyes._

_Children yet, the tale to hear,_

_Eager eye and willing ear,_

_Lovingly shall nestle near._

_In a Wonderland they lie,_

_Dreaming as the days go by,_

_Dreaming as the summers die;_

_Ever drifting down the stream –_

_Lingering in the golden gleam –_

_Life, what is it but a dream?_

Looking down at the bouquet of tea rose in his hands, the last line of the poem resounded in Chanyeol’s ears. Scene after scene, memories of Kyungsoo replayed in front of the elder man’s eyes.

Indeed. Life, what is it but a dream.

When he came to again, he realized most mourners had already bid their goodbyes to Han Kangwoo’s son. Before long, only he and Sehun remained. The son knelt by his father’s grave and gathered the bunches of flowers to the sides of the grave, revealing the deceased name on the gravestone. Chanyeol hobbled over and knelt down next to the young man. Wordlessly, he finally placed down his bouquet below the name that still so unfamiliar to him.

“If I’d know he’d leave so soon, I would have asked you to come later just so I could have spent more time with him.” The younger man said.

“What do you mean?” Chanyeol asked. He could not sense if it was jealousy or enmity in the other’s tone.

“He was waiting for you,” the young man replied lightly and caressed over the engraved name, “ever since he saw Doctor Oh, he was waiting for you. He was always waiting for you, even though he was too stubborn to say so. I’m glad in the end he got to see you, Mr. Park. I’m glad he could have a happy ending.”

Chanyeol observed the young man with a slight frown. He learned from Sehun the young man’s name was Kim Jongin and he was the adopted son of Kyungsoo. The elderly man wondered how much this child actually knew about Kyungsoo’s past and their relationship.

“I could guess who you were to Kangwoo-appa,” Jongin smiled wryly when he saw Chanyeol’s expression, “in the past few months, he often called your name in his sleep when he was burning high fevers. But every time when I ask about you, he’d only ruffle my hair and fake a smile. I never told him, but he was always a horrible liar and his fake smiles were just awful. Since then, I knew you were someone special to appa, someone who was probably more than a friend he had lost.”

Chanyeol’s frown deepened and a thin layer of mist clouded grey eyes as hard as steel. Jongin continued to speak without taking notice of the change in the elderly man.

“So when you came unannounced that day, I was really glad. Kangwoo-appa was a great man and he deserved to go without any regret. My parents passed away when I was 14, but none of my relatives wanted to adopt me because my parents were estranged from their respective families. Then Kangwoo-appa stepped in and despite being a single male with a struggling business and just a friend of my late father, he adopted me with no hesitation. He gave me a family far warmer than any of my relatives could have. I am really grateful towards him and I guess the least I could do for him was to keep him company until he passed away. He’s a strange sort of man really, always so quiet and solidary. He never tried to look for a partner even though he always looked so lonely. Eventually I figured he was probably waiting for someone, or else why would he remain unmarried for so long? Though, I never thought the person he was waiting for is an old man, not that I’m judging his preference or anything.”

Jongin chuckled light-heartedly but his smile was wiped away in an instant when he saw the elderly man again. Chanyeol’s lips pressed tightly against each other, stretching his mouth into a thin line. His frail body trembled uncontrollably in the winter morning, but Jongin could tell it was not from the cold. Without a blink, the elderly man stared hard at the name on the gravestone even though shimmering tears that refused to fall had already blurred the characters. Silently, Jongin lowered his gaze towards the flowers of soft pastel pink.

“Tea rose…” he whispered. Then after a long breath, he let out a resigning sigh. Gently, he helped Chanyeol stand up. Sehun walked over and wrapped a protective arm around Chanyeol’s weakening form, supporting the elder man. Without another word, Jongin reached into his coat and pulled out a small box and a letter. Contemplating for a moment, he placed both items in Chanyeol’s still trembling hands.

“I believe this is for you,” he said nodding towards the letter, “and the other, I think he’d like it if you have it.” Chanyeol looked down at the small, sealed wooden box next to the letter: Kyungsoo’s remains.

“I am sure he’d like to be close to you once again,” the young man mumbled, “this is probably for the best." Taking one last look at the small box, Jongin bowed deeply at Chanyeol. "Please take care of him.” he said sincerely then walked away into the falling snow, leaving behind a confused Sehun and Chanyeol who clasped the wooden box and letter close to his heart.

\---

He did not know how much time had passed when the old magnolia tree finally came into view. Half panting and struggling with sore limbs, Chanyeol stood beneath his favourite tree and leaned against its sturdy trunk. Looking up, he squinted at the hazy winter sun shining through the bare branches. A single bud on the tallest branch wavered in the snowy breeze. Winter will soon pass and spring was on its way; but Chanyeol knew spring breeze will never feel warm to him again.

The elderly man caressed the wooden box in his palm with his thumb and reluctantly, he tucked it into the inner pocket of his coat. Then carefully, he tore open the envelope containing the only letter from the other man in forty years. Inside, there was a piece of paper with a poem written on it. It was Kyungsoo’s handwriting.

Quietly, he read and let the words sink into his heart, his being and his soul.

Quietly, he placed the poem back into its envelope with trembling hands.

Quietly, he wept and grieved for that person who used to stand with him beneath their favourite tree.

\---

One step heavy and one step light, Chanyeol went back to his greenhouse. Among the hundreds of tea roses of pastel pink, he placed the letter inside a worn out, leather-bound box that already contained a record with no label, a bookmark of pressed magnolia flower, and a dog tag with the engraving  _Doh Kyungsoo_. Pressing play on the small boombox, the elderly man hobbled in between the flowers with watering can in one hand and the small wooden box placed squarely in the palm of the other. At last, they were together again. 

\---

At the back of the Park mansion, there was a small greenhouse. All year round, there’d be an old man with eyes of silver smoke tending to the flowers. Every day without fail, he tended to the flowers until he became bedridden with sickness and old age. In the cozy greenhouse, he grew blooms of tea rose, flowers that were delicate and soft, and meaningful to his heart. “I’ll remember always,” he'd always say, but of what only he knew. Even after he passed away and turned into dust, the roses continued to bloom day after day and year after year, as if not willing to let that promise disappear.

‘I’ll remember always of you and me and of those times, happy and sad, together and apart. I’ll remember always,’ the flowers seemed to say, ‘of the words said and words we could not say. I will remember, always.’

\---

_If only in death you and me could be we,_

_then I welcome death with open arms._

_We could not promise each other a lifetime,_

_only to have lived that brief once in a lifetime._

_But in death, we could have eternity,_

_an eternity of the lifetime we had always dreamed of._

_Below the same sky, the same tree;_

_Listening to the same wind, the same rain;_

_I vow to you,_

_in death you and me will be we._

**\- Doh Kyungsoo**

\---

TBC 


	5. 5. 2013 Epilogue

#  **Epilogue**

#  **2013**

It was the night of the last snow; flakes of white fluttered and fell, slow and soft, gently silencing the world in a mirage of peace and simplicity. The only sounds in the night were the monotonous and rhythmic beeps of the telemetric unit and the irregular murmurs of heaving breath. For nearly a century, this room remained the only one untouched by the flow of time in the eastern quarter of the Park estate. Original chests and drawers furnished the room, along with the old lounge couch and narrow working desk, still covered by piles of paper but no longer of the same content as the past. Although trinkets and books no longer littered the luscious carpet and sets of medical equipment had occupied the free space, the youthful air of the room was maintained, as if to preserve a happier time when laughters were brighter. Everywhere, in every crevice and corner, between the curtain and the sheets, and under each floorboard and above each ceiling tiles, there existed the memories of two boys and the memoir of a man. And amidst it all in the middle of the room, an aged man fatigued from sickness and time laid in the bed from his childhood. Amidst it all, there laid Park Chanyeol.

Slipping in and out of consciousness, Chanyeol dreamt of the once were, could have been and should have been. There were once so much joy, anger, sorrow, fear, love, hate and desire; but now, everything had become nothing, merely fragments of the past and fleeting memories that seemed so distant. It was as if he was watching a movie rather than his life, scenes jumbled out of time ordinance came and went.

He was awakened by a slight breeze gently caressing his aged façade. Chanyeol cracked open his eyes and glimpsed wearily towards the agape window. There, underneath the luminescing moonlight that streamed in through the fluttering curtains, a young man bowed politely. 

“You called for me, young master?”

His voice was just as soft and melodic as Chanyeol remembered.

“Don’t call me that.” Chanyeol scowled in a husky whisper. The young man raised his head and smiled shyly, tenderness reflected in his dark and clear eyes. Without a sound, he made his way to the large bed.

“You’ve come.” The old man said.

“I’ve never left,” the young man smiled fondly at the aged man, “I am always here.” He pointed at Chanyeol’s heart.

“That’s true.” Chanyeol croaked, fatigue in his voice. He reached out a shaky hand and the young man grabbed on without hesitation. Chanyeol blinked at the touch, feeling coolness make contact with his lukewarm hand. It had been twenty years since he last felt the other’s touch.

“It’s time to go?”

The young man nodded silently in reply and he gazed gently at the old man with eyes filled with love. Blinking slowly, Chanyeol also nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes… It’s about time to go. I’ve made you wait long enough.”

“Selfish as always,” the young man teased with a sweet smile, “but that’s alright. I promised I’d wait no matter for how long."

Chanyeol smiled back with gratitude. Craning his neck with some difficulties, he scanned around the room one last time. This was a place of happy memories and a space that retained many precious moments. On top the drawer, the needle of the old phonograph no longer scratched the record with no label, but Chanyeol could still hear the honey-like voice that once sang on a summer evening. Glancing to the bedside table, the worn out, leather-bound box came into view. Inside the contents remained unchanged for two decades except for the addition of a single, dried out tea rose and a hand written will by the elderly man.

The will was simple: to burn everything in the leather box with his remain. Then together with the small wooden box he had been carrying everywhere, bury him deep below the old magnolia tree in the woodland. Together they will remain there for an eternity, fulfilling their unspoken vow.

When Chanyeol focused his dimming eyes on the young man once more, as his heart slowed and breathing waned, the other smiled reassuringly and padded his hand in comfort.

“Kyungsoo?”

“Yes, Chanyeol?”

 “Are there magnolia trees on the other side too?”

“Yes, and they bloom all year round.”

“Good… I’d like to smell the white flowers again, together with you.”

“We will.”

“… and Kyungsoo?”

“Yes, Chanyeol?”

“Thank you for waiting.”

Chanyeol closed his eyes in contentment and he drifted off peacefully.

Vaguely in the blinding lights, he saw a tall young man of bright smiles shouting and running towards an old magnolia tree. Beneath the blooming tree, another laughing young man with heart-shaped lips welcomed him with open arms. As they embraced each other and showered each other with fleeting kisses, their laughter echoed in the passing breeze, intermingling with the faint smell of the sweet flowers.

\---

**Tap, pause, tap tap, pause, tap tap tap, pause.**

**It means we will love each other forever, even if we are separated by time and space.**

**We will always have this code, for the words we could not say.**

**Park Chanyeol & Doh Kyungsoo (1934 – 1993**)

\---

**FIN**. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to wrap this project up by putting up a song. The song, To Youth, I included in the forward sets the tone of the story and this song summarizes the story quite well. It is the song: 匆匆那年 (In those years gone by) by 王菲 (Faye Wong). I hope you enjoy listening to this song after reading the story. I think it serves as a good wrap up. Also, I’ve included the original Chinese lyrics and my translation of the lyrics. It is not a direct translation, simply because it is impossible to do a direct translation; it just makes no sense then. So instead, I did an interpretive translation, especially for many of the more poetic and literary phrases in the lyrics. For those of you who understand Chinese, enjoy the song and I’ll leave you to savour the words in your own interpretation. For those who do not understand Chinese, savour my interpretation instead lol.
> 
> 匆匆那年我们 究竟说了几遍 再见之后再拖延  
> 可惜谁有没有 爱过不是一场 七情上面的雄辩  
> 匆匆那年我们 一时匆忙撂下 难以承受的诺言  
> 只有等别人兑现
> 
> In those years gone by, how many goodbyes have we said yet still continued to hang on to each other?  
> It no longer mattered who could not let go because after all, to love is no more than putting on an eloquent show of human’s seven emotions (joy, anger, sorrow, fear, love, hate and desire)  
> In those years gone by, in a haste we've abandoned those promises of forever made to each other   
> And now we can only wait for someone else to fulfill them 
> 
> 不怪那吻痕还 没积累成茧  
> 拥抱着冬眠也没能 羽化再成仙  
> 不怪这一段情 没空反复再排练  
> 是岁月宽容恩赐 反悔的时间
> 
> We cannot blame our kisses for not leaving behind marks deep enough   
> Because I still cannot move on and forget even after sleeping through many winters   
> We cannot blame time for moving too quickly and cutting short of our love   
> Rather, the flow time was always slow and we've simply spent too much time regretting and resenting 
> 
> 如果再见不能红着眼 是否还能红着脸  
> 就像那年匆促 刻下永远一起 那样美丽的谣言  
> 如果过去还值得眷恋 别太快冰释前嫌  
> 谁甘心就这样 彼此无挂也无牵
> 
> If we cannot say goodbye with swollen red eyes, could we try for blushing faces?   
> Just like how we used to look in those years that had long passed, when we vowed forever and promised each other beautiful illusions   
> If the past is worth to be longed for, then let us not let go just yet and completely  
> After all, which one of us could really forgo everything and forget everything 
> 
> 我们要互相亏欠 要不然凭何怀缅
> 
> We cannot yet resolve our debt with each other  
> How else could we reminisce? 
> 
>  
> 
> 匆匆那年我们 见过太少世面 只爱看同一张脸  
> 那么莫名其妙 那么讨人欢喜 闹起来又太讨厌  
> 相爱那年活该 匆匆因为我们 不懂顽固的诺言  
> 只是分手的前言
> 
> In those years gone by, we've seen too little of the world and were only captivated by each other's immature faces   
> So wondrous and mysterious, so happy and lovable, and so annoying when we fought  
> We deserve the pain of love from those years because we made wistful promises in place of thoughtful vows  
> Since the beginning we were destined to end 
> 
> 不怪那天太冷 泪滴水成冰  
> 春风也一样没 吹进凝固的照片  
> 不怪每一个人 没能完整爱一遍  
> 是岁月善意落下 残缺的悬念
> 
> We cannot blame that day for being too cold and freezing tears into ice in our eyes   
> The spring breeze was still the same but it no longer brought the same warmth it once did   
> We cannot blame anyone for our incomplete love   
> Simply it was meant to be, left behind as an unresolved ambiguity in the flow of time 
> 
> 如果再见不能红着眼 是否还能红着脸  
> 就像那年匆促 刻下永远一起 那样美丽的谣言  
> 如果过去还值得眷恋 别太快冰释前嫌  
> 谁甘心就这样 彼此无挂也无牵
> 
> If we cannot say goodbye with swollen red eyes, could we try for blushing faces?   
> Just like how we used to look in those years that had long passed, when we vowed forever and promised each other beautiful illusions   
> If the past is worth to be longed for, then let us not let go just yet and completely   
> After all, which one of us could really forgo everything and forget everything 
> 
> 如果再见不能红着眼 是否还能红着脸  
> 就像那年匆促 刻下永远一起 那样美丽的谣言  
> 如果过去还值得眷恋 别太快冰释前嫌  
> 谁甘心就这样 彼此无挂也无牵
> 
> If we cannot say goodbye with swollen red eyes, could we try for blushing faces?   
> Just like how we used to look in those years that had long passed, when we vowed forever and promised each other beautiful illusions   
> If the past is worth to be longed for, then let us not let go just yet and completely   
> After all, which one of us could really forgo everything and forget everything 
> 
> 我们要互相亏欠  
> 我们要藕断丝连
> 
> We cannot yet resolve our debt with each other  
> We can part but not our love


End file.
